


Pudding Club

by RueRambunctious



Series: Emergency Contact Universe [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: (of usual characters), Family, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fix-It, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Interfering Mothers, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Mummy Issues, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Past Child Abuse, Post-Reichenbach, Reichenbach Falls, Reichenbach Fix-It, Spanking, Swearing, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-01-16 06:18:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 56,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12337161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RueRambunctious/pseuds/RueRambunctious
Summary: Sebastian's mother was always concerned he'd get the help a membership to the 'pudding club'.She was delighted when Sebastian married darling 'James'.Now she wants grandchildren, and Jim faking his own death? Sebastian is going to have to get over that, because Sebastian is 43, and *tick-tock*...(Fourth of the trilogy, because apparently that's how I roll. It could maybe manage as a stand alone but will make far more sense if read in order. Sex Room is not required reading to understand the character development arcs, it was just an offering to appease readers during a long spell of angst in Panjandrum.)





	1. Welcome Back

“What were you hoping I'd say?”

Jim drops his gaze to the floor. Sebastian is utterly livid with him, but something in that familiar vulnerability as Jim fusses with his cuff links holds the big man back from actually hitting Jim just yet.

Jim flinches his shoulders in a tense attempt at a shrug. “I… I knew you wouldn't be happy to see me,” he says quietly. There's more than just a tinge of meekness to the killer's voice. It's unsettling and familiar all at once.

Sebastian stares hard at Jim. “Did you, now?”

The brunet's shoulders fly up defensively. Thirty six years of age and a lifetime of hurting people… yet Jim is _scared_ , scared like an impoverished boy who's broken something priceless.

Sebastian feels a little gratified by the flinch but mostly he feels sickened by it. Yes Arty bloody _should_ feel sorry for the _fucking disaster_ of the past few years, but… Sebastian cannot deny to himself that part of him hates this nervous version of Jim. Jim shouldn't be afraid of him.

Well. Sebastian's bloody livid and Jimmy-boy _should_ be afraid of that rage, but… Sebastian could never do anything to Jim that could put _that_ sort of worry in those dark eyes, surely?

Sebastian runs a hand through his close cropped hair. It's thinner than when they last spoke, but there's more of it than seems reasonable for the blond's age and all the stress he's been put under.

“What were you hoping I'd say?” Sebastian repeats tiredly.

Jim swallows and twitches one foot behind the other as though fighting an instinct to step back. “I...”

Sebastian lets some of his controlled ire bleed into his voice. “ _Jim_ ,” he bellows.

Thirty six years of age and Jim rises from the floor in apparent fright. He takes that step back, then crosses his arms across himself uneasily. “I… Welcome back, I suppose...” he whispers.

Sebastian laughs. It's a booming, bitter sound that startles him a bit with its rawness. “ _Welcome back_ , you little bastard.”

Jim swallows. “I… I can go,” he suggests in a low voice.

“ _Don't you dare_ ,” Sebastian snarls. His instinct this whole time has been to keep distance between their bodies but now he strides purposely towards Jim. “You're going _nowhere_. You're going to give me a fucking explanation.”

Jim's dark eyes widen. His body cringes in on itself but he stands his ground. “I… Sebby, I… I can't tell you yet. I'm sorry, I...”

Sebastian freezes, looming over Jim with an icy set to his expression and a chill to his voice. “ _Are you seriously telling me _, husband mine, that after _faking your motherfucking death_ , years later you still have no explanation for me?”__

__Jim reaches to the back of his own fragile skull to brush one of the bald scars there. It's a tell of his discomfort so vividly familiar to Sebastian still that it quite sickens the blond. “I'm sorry,” Jim whispers. His familiar Irish lilt is barely audible, but the tension in his frame suggests the words are true. “I can't; not yet. I will, when it's… When I can. If… If you like.”_ _

__“I'm just supposed to accept you back without an explanation?” Sebastian spits._ _

__Jim's eyes flick upwards in naked surprise. After a moment he tidies the vulnerable expression away again and admits, “I was not quite that optimistic.”_ _

__Sebastian presses his lips together. “I am _really_ fucking pissed at you.”_ _

__“I'm sorry,” Jim says again. He's never been one to apologise much; it's one of the few things that reassure Sebastian that this isn't a delusion. The blond could not have imagined this. Pain meds or not, he just doesn't have this vivid an imagination._ _

__Sebastian squints at Jim. “Don't you have a bag or something?”_ _

__Jim inhales sharply. His little chest looks frail and familiar and Sebastian wonders why just a breath from this slight man can make his own broad chest ache so deeply. “I… was not so presumptive,” Jim admits._ _

__“'Presumptive,'” Sebastian repeats softly, rolling the word over his tongue as though to taste it. “So you are staying then?”_ _

__Jim blinks, his mostly blank face leaking emotion through the cracks of his lips and eyes and that wide, expressive brow. “Do… You want me to?”_ _

__Sebastian's blue eyes flash then narrow. “You're my husband, aren't you?”_ _

__Jim drops his thin arms around his suited frame again. “It's… I mean, legally… I… It's been… Only if you want. I… I don't have to be.”_ _

__Sebastian casts the smaller man a disparaging look. “Come inside if you're coming.”_ _

__Jim swallows. He wordlessly follows after the tall man._ _

__The tension shifts in the air as the pair step out of the lift. Sebastian seems to relax a fraction at Jim's decision and the brunet seems relieved by the offer._ _

__All the same, Sebastian is not easily mollified. Not over this._ _

__“A fucking note, Jim,” he growls, pacing. “ _Anything_.”_ _

__The small man presses his dark eyes closed. “I couldn't risk-”_ _

__“ _You shot yourself in the head then didn't let me recover a body_ ,” Sebastian hollers. “How the _fuck_ was I supposed to process that?”_ _

__“I told you not to look,” Jim states meekly._ _

__Sebastian cannot help but spin around and snatch Jim by a bony wrist. The smaller man cringes as Sebastian yells, “Do you think that brought me any _fucking_ comfort?”_ _

__Jim bites his lip. Even with the thinner hair and the new lines around his eyes it makes him look so bloody young and vulnerable. “It kept you safe!” the brunet blurts. “It _had_ to seem real.”_ _

__“'Safe'?” Sebastian snorts. His voice is mocking but he releases the sharpness of his grip a little. “You think losing you kept me _safe_? I've been a _fucking mess_. You know what would have been better? If you _told_ me you were in danger and _I would have done every fucking thing in my power to protect you._ ”_ _

__“Why'd you think I left?” Jim mumbles. “I didn't want you there. You'd have gotten hurt.”_ _

__“Meanwhile it's been all sunshine and rainbows here,” Sebastian growls._ _

__Jim's gaze flickers. “You shouldn't have done that.”_ _

__Sebastian follows the smaller man's gaze to his arm and Sebastian's jaw sets. “Richard insists it was him at the hospital with me the whole time.”_ _

__Jim swallows. “I couldn't let you just-”_ _

__Sebastian covers his broad arms. “I didn't need to be safe; I just needed to be with _you_.”_ _

__“You're a fucking idiot,” Jim retorts. “And I don't understand you. ...But Jesus Christ, Tiger.”_ _

__Sebastian tilts his head away uncomfortably before raising his eyes. “You've been gone a long time.”_ _

__Jim presses his lips together. “And I'm afraid you're going to have to wait a little longer for me. But if you want me back I'll do everything in my power to make us safe.”_ _

__Sebastian steps closer instinctively. “What do you mean, 'a little longer'?” he asks._ _

__Jim feels his insides twist at the sliver of panic in the muscular man's voice. “I'm still tying things up,” the brunet explains. “But I needed to check that...”_ _

__Sebastian shoves his large, calloused hands into the pockets of his jogging bottoms. “I won't… I'll be sensible. As long as… As long as you're coming home.”_ _

__Jim sighs. “I'm still the kid who couldn't bear a week without you, okay?”_ _

__Sebastian's gaze wavers. “It's been years.”_ _

__“Yet still.” Jim turns and unfastens his belt. A little shyly, he drops his clothing to expose scarring on his pale skin. “I'm still yours. If… If you want me.”_ _

__Sebastian stares. “Can I touch you?”_ _

__Jim looks around quickly, his shoulders nervous. “You're my husband.”_ _

__Sebastian crosses the space between them slowly. “Yes, but it's been years. You might not-”_ _

__“ _I'm still yours_ ,” Jim reasserts firmly._ _

__Sebastian brushes his fingertips gingerly along the slight man's bared skin. When Jim abashedly leans hopefully into the contact Sebastian picks up the smaller man and holds him nearer._ _

__Jim instinctively latches closer but gives Sebastian's injuries a doubtful look. “Doesn't this hurt?”_ _

__“Hurts more not to touch you,” the blond declares._ _

__“Don't scare me like that again,” Jim whispers._ _

__Sebastian presses his forehead against Jim's and inhales the small man's scent deeply. “Likewise.”_ _


	2. Awake

Even after a few years of careless use Sebastian's chest is still broad and warm and inviting, if a little older. His dog tags dangle on a chain from his thick neck and Jim stares at the ring that is looped alongside them.

Sebastian shifts. “Get some sleep. I'll watch over you.”

Jim wrinkles his nose. “You're healing. You need rest more. And no one knows I'm here.”

Sebastian flops onto his back again. “I'm not sleeping. I might wake up and-” His voice catches. Sebastian laughs off the raw emotion, embarrassed, but stares at the hand Jim instantly drops over his own.

“I wouldn't do that to you,” the brunet says.

Sebastian swallows. “You _left_ me. You didn't even say goodbye.”

Jim sighs and leans closer. He takes Sebastian's head and pulls it carefully against himself. “I was out of my depth. I didn't have much time to formulate a plan and I didn't know how else to keep you safe.”

“I didn't need to be safe; I needed to be with you,” Sebastian grumbles into Jim's thin chest.

“I know,” Jim admits. “I'm truly sorry. I just couldn't risk you.”

Sebastian looks away. “Because I've survived so well on my own.”

One hand wrapped around the back of Sebastian's head, Jim reaches for the big man's hand and squeezes it gently. “I was selfish. Really selfish, I know. I was okay with you being hurt but safe so long as I didn't get you involved. I just couldn't lose you like that.”

Sebastian shifts his sore arms. “This the better option, was it?”

Jim breathes in deeply. “Didn't think you loved me that much,” he admits.

“Obviously,” Sebastian states, a little bitterly.

“It's not like you need me,” Jim mumbles. “You didn't have any reason to-”

“I _love_ you,” Sebastian declares fiercely. “With my whole heart. Which you stomped on, by the way. I had no _reason_ to stay without you, mo chroí.”

“I didn't expect that would be the way you'd move on,” Jim says weakly.

“I _waited_ for you,” Sebastian states in a quietly accusatory voice. “I waited, and _this_ ,” he raises his raw arms, “is the only thing which brought you back.”

“You think I haven't been keeping tabs?” Jim snaps. “I _know_ you've been a mess. But-”

“You don't think that's _worse_?” Sebastian retorts. “You've been watching me fall apart and did _nothing_?”

“I didn't do nothing,” Jim states. “You think it's a coincidence no pub or club owner has beaten your deserving drunken arse with a pool cue after the sprees you've been on?”

“A beating _heals_ ,” Sebastian spits. “Wondering what's happened to you for years… What the fuck do you think that does to a person?”

Jim is quiet for a beat. “I honestly thought you'd get over it eventually.”

“Which is fucking offensive,” Sebastian snarls. “I love you, you twisted fucking idiot.”

Jim sighs and rubs the back of the blond's head. “Can't say I understand why, Tiger.”

“Because you're _mine_ ,” the big man huffs.

Jim ghosts a kiss against Sebastian's skin. The blond stiffens before leaning into the touch. “It would have been better for you if you'd just accepted I was dead and found happiness elsewhere,” Jim states mildly.

Sebastian looks up with a glare. “You're my _husband_.”

“Yes, and 'until death do us part',” Jim reasons.

“You're not dead,” Sebastian says stoutly.

Jim nods and strokes the blond's scalp. “It would probably be easier if I were.”

“ _You don't go without me_ ,” Sebastian asserts ferociously.

Jim blinks. “I don't think I'll ever understand you, Sebby. Why would I possibly be so important to you?”

Sebastian growls. “You might be smart, Jim, but you're a fucking idiot. Some things just _are_.”

“But it's not in your best interest to love me,” Jim protests. “I'm a catastrophe.”

“You are _my_ catastrophe,” Sebastian snarls. He looks the smaller man over then drops the fierceness of his voice. “You should get some sleep. You look grey, Kitten.”

“Fine,” Jim replies, “but the same goes for you. You need to heal.”

Sebastian shakes his head. “Seeing you is what I need. Sleep can wait.”

“Sebby, I'm not going anywhere,” Jim sighs.

“Yeah, you said that before,” Sebastian responds with a frown. “You still blew your brains out.”

“I didn't _actually_ blow my brains out-”

“I didn't have any proof of that though, did I?” Sebastian retorts. “All I had was an empty casket, an empty bed, and a fucking impossible business to run.”

“I'm sorry,” Jim states.

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, “but it still fucking hurts.”

“I was trying to keep you safe,” Jim says quietly.

“I didn't _need_ safe, I needed _us_ , together,” Sebastian declares.

“I know,” Jim admits. “Get some sleep. I've watched over you this long; I'm not going anywhere.”

“I don't need sleep,” Sebastian states.

“You bloody do,” Jim states with an arch of his brow. “I slept for _days_ when I got slashed.”

“Yeah, but you got stabbed in the chest and belly,” Sebastian mutters.

“Yes, and you took a hunting knife to yourself,” Jim retorts.

Sebastian shrugs. “Even still, I don't really sleep much.”

Jim sighs and reaches around to grip the bigger man's bottom lightly. “Seb, get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up.”

Sebastian flinches as though the familiar intimacy of the touch burns him. Jim quickly pulls away.

Sebastian swallows and sits back to prevent a repeat of the awkward interaction. “I'm fine. I'll sleep when I need to.”

Jim starts to edge off of the bed. “I can sleep on the couch if that helps. Or… I can go… If you'd prefer?”

Sebastian snatches Jim's arm. “ _No_. You stay.”

Jim stills. “Tiger, what can I do? What do you need?”

“Just, just stay,” Sebastian mutters. It sounds like a plea to his ears.

“I'm here, Seb,” Jim soothes.

Sebastian nods and drops down onto his side, but does not close his eyes. The brunet crawls closer but keeps a respectful distance between them.

After a beat Sebastian grabs Jim's cold hand and clasps their fingers. Jim squeezes back.

“I can't always tell whether I'm asleep or awake,” the blond tells the room.

Jim squeezes Sebastian's hand again. “I'm here, with you.”

“I know,” Sebastian says slowly. “My nightmares were always about losing you.”


	3. Thin

The bandages wrapped around Sebastian's arms make him look vulnerable and Jim wonders whether the protectiveness it sparks in him is the same emotion the blond felt all those years ago.

Sebastian stirs and looks confused for a moment as his gaze falls upon Jim. Pleasure and fear dart over the big man's face before settling on wary affection. “You stayed.”

“I did,” Jim says. “You slept.”

“I did,” Sebastian agrees.

Jim stretches out. “Richard says you have meds to take.”

Sebastian grimaces.

Despite the wary tension between them, Jim gives a small smile. “Yes, how terrible. You'll do as you're told.”

Sebastian swallows carefully. “I still do as you tell me, do I?”

Jim freezes. “...When it comes to your health, you do,” he declares eventually.

Sebastian presses his lips together as though to swallow an argument. A few moments later he nods.

Jim pretends not to notice the hesitance. “Where are your pills?”

Sebastian rubs his face. “Kitchen, I think.”

“I'll get them,” Jim decides. “Are you coming with me, or staying here?”

Sebastian pushes himself out of their bed. “Think I've had enough watching you leave for the time being.”

Jim's expression flickers. “Don't worry,” he says carefully, “you'll soon get sick of me.”

Sebastian bares his teeth in a parody of a smile. He follows close behind Jim despite evident mistrust and resentment.

Jim does his best not to acknowledge it. “Where?”

Sebastian shrugs. “Mum tidied up whilst I was in hospital. I don't know where anything is.”

Jim turns around. “Alright, but you took your medicine _with_ you from the hospital.”

“Did I?” Sebastian rubs his temples. “I don't really remember. That would make sense.”

“Give me your phone; I'll call Richard,” Jim offers, holding out his hand.

Sebastian wraps his bandaged arms around himself and coolly observes the sting. “Did he take me home?”

Jim stills and stares at Sebastian for a beat. “You should be able to remember.”

Sebastian shrugs. “I don't really sleep any more. And they gave me a lot of morphine. I'm fuzzy on… well… a long time.”

“Oh,” Jim says. “The past few days?”

Sebastian drops his gaze for a moment.

“Weeks? Months,” Jim amends.

Sebastian makes a face and turns away, focusing on looking for the medication. Something unsaid twists Jim's stomach.

“Years?” he whispers.

Sebastian slows and keeps his back turned. He tilts his head. “I guess.”

Jim swallows. “Seb.”

Sebastian's shoulders are tense. “Well, you've been watching, haven't you?”

“When you've been out working or brawling.” Jim fusses with his scalp's scars. “I didn't… I thought I was giving you your privacy by keeping out of your home life.”

Sebastian throws his head back to sneer grimly at the ceiling. “Because it's been my _privacy_ that been my main concern...”

“Seb, I-”

Sebastian raises a hand behind himself to quieten Jim. “Don't. You say you have your reasons. That's… I'm not ready to hear anything more, alright?”

Jim inhales heavily and scuttles around the kitchen until his hands fall upon the searched for tablets. “Whatever you require.”

Sebastian looks around swiftly. His expression is caught between resentment and need. 

Jim waits, but Sebastian does not speak. Jim passes the continuing silence by reading the packaging in his hands and setting out Sebastian's medication obediently.

Sebastian grunts as Jim hesitantly places a tumbler of cool water before him. The big man takes his medication then shuffles over to the couch. They'd replaced the quirky metallic leather beast years before with a comfortable fabric thing. No longer able to wipe the couch clean of their bodily fluids, Sebastian would regularly remove the couch cushions and shove them in the washing machine.

It is clear Sebastian has gotten out of that habit. The couch is stained and smells vaguely of spilt alcohol and something less pleasant; sourer. It's also ripped in places and the sight of its abused state makes Jim uneasy.

Sebastian barely registers the couch's ugly existence. He squares his back into an arm of the couch and draws up his knees a little defensively. He does not know what to say.

Jim worries his lower lip slowly. An enormous part of him wants to dive over and plant himself on Sebastian, getting as much skin contact as possible and soothing the chasm between their persons.

And yet Jim gets the feeling pressing confidently against Seb would make the blond less comfortable, not more. It's not a feeling Jim has experienced before.

And dear Christ and Mother Mary, how Jim has missed Sebastian.

Slowly the bigger man begins to notice the tense way Jim hovers. Sebastian swallows. “You can sit if you want,” he mutters.

“Are… Are you comfortable with that?” Jim asks.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Been uncomfortable with a lot worse,” he mumbles. “Sit if you like.”

Jim treads closer and seats himself a polite distance from Sebastian, but not so far as the opposite end of the couch. The bigger man seems to relax a fraction. He fidgets quietly with a frayed piece of the couch's covering fabric.

“Been through the wars a bit, this,” Jim comments mildly.

Sebastian shrugs. “'S'Been tough.”

Jim curls his fingers around a gouge in the cushion he is seated on. “I imagine so. Was hard enough just keeping away from you, and I thought you were fine. Or at least, not dead.”

Sebastian looks up alertly at the subdued ache in Jim's soft voice. The muscled blond's reserved expression flickers.

Jim heaves a breathe. “I'm fucking sorry, Sebastian. I should have thought of something else. Something better.”

Sebastian nods slowly. He inhales carefully. “You missed me then?”

Jim looks up immediately. “Of course I-” He cuts himself off and subdues the incredulous tone of his voice. “I missed you,” the brunet states heavily.

Sebastian presses his lips together and pushes his eyelids tightly closed. He focuses on his breathing for a few moments before opening his eyes again. “Good,” he growls.

Jim gives an uncomfortable giggle.

Sebastian crosses his arms defensively and gives a soft glare. “I hope you suffered.”

Jim looks up vulnerably. “Impossible not to. You're my whole world.”

“'Were', maybe,” Sebastian corrects.

Jim sighs and spreads his shoulders. “Whatever you think.”

Sebastian stares at the ring still borne on Jim's left hand. The sight of it feels like a boot to the stomach and yet it spreads an odd comfort along with its nauseating, bittersweet ache.

“You should eat,” Sebastian blurts.

Jim looks up, startled. “Are you hungry?”

Sebastian shrugs. “I don't know. I just… It's morning. You should eat.”

“Is that your way of saying I got skinny again?” Jim asks wryly.

Sebastian rakes his gaze over Jim's form. It's true; Jim has lost a lot of the weight he put on during their marriage. He doesn't…

Now that Sebastian is prepared enough to look properly, he realises that Jim does not look healthy at all. He looks gaunt, stressed, and practically haunted. Starved. It wasn't immediate apparent under the well tailored suit and… well… years and years of memories jumping forward at once.

Still.

Now that Sebastian stares, he can see Jim has not had it easy. The blond stands. “I'll make you breakfast.”

Something flickers across Jim's face. He has not expected to be looked after. He swallows. “You should rest,” he says. “I'll feed us.”

“Let me,” Sebastian says. “I've missed it.” He freezes as he registers the honest comment.

Jim swallows. “Whatever you want.”

Sebastian grunts and wanders around his kitchen with a slow thoughtfulness. It almost feels like relearning the steps of a familiar dance, except caring for Jim always felt a million times more comfortable than those formal dances from Sebastian's childhood.

The blond expects the need to be creative with breakfast, but is surprised instead to find his cupboards filled with unfamiliar purchases. Sebastian wonders whether this is the work of his mother, Jim's brother, or another, but he does not ask.

He cooks and brings over their food. He tries not to acknowledge the sharp pain in his chest as Jim looks up and accepts a plate. The familiarity burns.

Jim's wearing last night's shirt and trousers. The shirt is loosely buttoned and rolled up at the sleeves. It's not an outfit Sebastian has seen before, but the way it sits on the criminal's body is unforgettably familiar.

“Thank you,” Jim murmurs.

Sebastian blinks and breaks his gaze away. “No problem.”

Jim stretches his legs out tentatively as Sebastian sits down. The blond tenses at first, nervous of Jim's touch, but grabs Jim's ankles with one hand as the brunet apologetically pulls away. Sebastian places Jim's feet under his own thigh pointedly.

Jim gives a small smile full of concentrated affection and gratitude. Sebastian looks away. He eats quietly.

A thought flickers across his mind and Sebastian hates himself for it.

Jim notices and his forehead creases in concern. “Tiger?”

The pet name makes Sebastian anxious, but not so much as the realisation that his hand is still resting on Jim's bare ankle.

“Your things are still in the closet,” Sebastian says. “If you want something clean to wear.”

Jim stiffens, but Sebastian does not dare look around to see whether the brunet's expression is approving.


	4. Mammy's Boy

A smile plays about Sebastian's lips as he eyes his husband. “I can't believe that old thing still fits you.”

Jim's eyes sparkle and he pretends to pout. “Are you saying I look like I've gotten fat?”

Sebastian grins and crosses towards the smaller man. The moment's so comfortable he does not mention Jim's severe weight loss. Instead Sebastian wraps his arms around Jim and the brunet pretends not to notice the nervous tension in Sebastian's arms. “No,” the blond replies, “but I bought you that when you were a _teenager_. You're long out of your twenties by now.”

Jim arches a brow and grips the zipped front of his threadbare, faded black onesie haughtily. “Says the man _well_ into his forties.”

Sebastian opens his mouth to protest, he's only forty three after all, but the squeal of the intercom makes both men turn around.

Sebastian gives Jim a concerned look. “Get upstairs.”

The brunet shakes his head slowly. “No one knows I'm here.”

Sebastian gives Jim a warning look and walks towards the intercom. “Hello?”

Mrs Moran's sharp tones clip through the speaker. “I hope you're decent, darling. This is your five minute warning that I'm on my way up.”

The muscled blond breathes a sigh of relief. “Yes, mother.” He lets go of the intercom button and jerks his head towards the bedroom. “Upstairs, brat.”

Jim rolls his eyes. “Make up your mind: I'm either decrepit or-”

“You can be both, brat, now up you go,” Sebastian responds, crossing back over and nudging his husband in the direction of the staircase. “We both know it doesn't take my mother five minutes to get to the lift, whatever heels she's wearing.”

Jim rolls his eyes. “Fine. Be nice to her. She's obviously worried about you.”

Sebastian's blue eyes flicker for a moment. “I… Yeah, sure. She's nothing to worry about now, has she?”

Jim pecks his husband's cheek carefully – Sebastian still seems a bit odd about touching- and heads towards the stairs obediently. “Yes, but how are you going to tell her that?”

Sebastian bites his lip, but he doesn't have much time to think of an answer before he hears the elevator rising and its doors pinging open. He runs a large hand through his short hair.

“Mother. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Mrs Moran waves off his question and to Sebastian's immense surprise pulls him into a fierce hug. For such a skeletal frame she is remarkably strong, but it is the lapse in her aversion to physical contact which startles him most.

His mother reaches around to sting the back of Sebastian's thighs then pulls down his skull to kiss his forehead with perplexing tenderness. “You _little fool_ ,” Mrs Moran scolds.

Sebastian swallows, the abrupt guilt in his chest smarting worse than his suddenly sore legs. “I'm sorry, Mum,” the blond mumbles, and means it.

Mrs Moran stares Sebastian down, sniffs haughtily, then nods. “Mislaying your senses like that was most unbecoming. Do not do it again.” She pets her son's face before letting him go.

Sebastian straightens his back once released. “I didn't mean...” he breaks off a little helplessly.

Mrs Moran squeezes her son's tough hand firmly. “I know you were heartsore,” she says carefully. “Regardless, _you are never alone_ , do you hear me, young man?”

Sebastian swallows. “Yes, Mum,” he says weakly.

“Are you coping adequately?” the woman continues. “Are you managing with changing your bandages? Cooking?”

Sebastian bites his lower lip. “Yeah… Thanks, Mum.”

Mrs Moran pets her son, presses her lips together as she scrutinises him, then nods sharply. “Very well. Now where is my other errant child?”

Sebastian blinks slowly. “Sev's gone back to the barracks. He-”

Mrs Moran gives her eldest a withering look. “I did not come down with the last shower, Sebastian Moran. Where is James?”

Sebastian chokes. “What?”

Mrs Moran tuts and raises her voice. “James Moran you have until the count of five to get within my sight or you are going to be in _even bigger trouble_ , young man!”

From upstairs in the bedroom, Jim blinks and feels his cheeks heat uncontrollably.

“One!” Mrs Moran declares.

Jim crosses his arms over each other uncomfortably.

“Two!” Mrs Moran booms.

Jim bites his lip. He's a grown man.

“Three!” Mr Moran warns.

Jim shifts his weight. His stomach feels knotted and the colour of his face won't go down. He wriggles out of his onesie.

“Four, James...” Mrs Moran bellows.

Jim swallows his pride and bolts down the stairs.

Sebastian raises his brows at Jim questioningly, but the brunet barely has a chance to meet his gaze before Mrs Moran stares Jim down. The slight Irishman stumbles over to her nervously.

A soft look flickers over Mrs Moran's face before she reaches over and boxes Jim's ear sharply. “What _the devil_ have you been playing at? _Where the hell have you been_?”

Jim yelps and covers his head. He notices out of the corner of his eye that Sebastian moves towards him protectively, but Mrs Moran jabs a stern finger at the blond. “Go sit yourself _right there_. You know fine well this little boy needs a good talking to and that's exactly what he's going to get.”

Sebastian swallows, uncertain, then considers how _fucking much_ the past years have pained him. The big blond slinks over to the couch indicated, but keeps a defensive gaze rooted on Jim lest the brunet need rescuing.

Mrs Moran swats the shell of Jim's other ear, careful not to burst his drum despite her evident anger. “I asked you a question, James! Two, to be precise.”

“Ow, I'm sorry, I… I didn't have much choice,” Jim winces.

Mrs Moran snatches his thin wrist and yanks James forwards to heat the seat of his trousers. “ _That is no excuse_. We are a family and whatever trouble you are in we could have dealt with it!”

Jim gasps and squirms against the unexpected and painful smacking, but it is Mrs Moran's words which catch the breath in his throat. He can hear the sincerity in the woman's voice. _She would have helped if he had asked her._

His stomach knots tighter as he considers that this woman knows The Crocodile. Perhaps she actually could have helped him.

“Mum, don't,” Sebastian protests.

Mrs Moran keeps her grip on the brunet as she turns to look at her son. “James knows fine well that the least he deserves is a trip over my lap, and that's exactly what he's going to get, isn't is, James?”

Jim bites his lip and looks between Mrs Moran and Sebastian quickly. _He could say no_. Jim drops his eyes and tries not to think about Sebastian's incredulous look. “Yes, Ma'am.”

Mrs Moran gives him a warning look. “That ring on your finger failing to remind you that you're my son by law still?”

Jim blushes harder. “I… I know what you are to me,” he mumbles. He hopes she can tell how he feels.

“Then you'll understand why I am about to soundly heat your bottom.” Mrs Moran tugs on his wrist and leads him to the other side of the couch. 

Jim's throat and face are flaming but he cannot help but follow as Sebastian's mother sits and reaches for his trousers. Jim flinches, but something feels oddly right to him about the horrible way cold air hits his bare legs, and he does not resist as Mrs Moran pulls him commandingly over her thighs.

Mrs Moran's legs are terribly bony, but Jim does not have much time to dwell on that before she brings her palm down sharply over his upturned bottom. “Don't you _ever_ pull a stunt like that ever again,” Mrs Moran warns.

Jim whimpers and cannot help flinching a little as the woman burns swift circuits across his backside and the back of his legs.

“ _Have you any idea_ how wretchedly _worried_ Sebastian and I have been about you? Do you?” Mrs Moran demands.

Jim's breath catches. He cannot see her face from this position but looks up and catches Sebastian's conflicted gaze. Jim can tell from the blond's expression that it's true: they've both worried about him. _Massively_.

It makes tears prick Jim's dark eyes.

“Bastian and I have been _beside_ ourselves,” Mrs Moran continues. As she spanks, she lectures Jim continually about his being a part of their family and his worth to them. How worried sick they'd been. How distressing the news of his faked death had been. How much they _love_ him. How vehemently they would have helped him if only he'd had the bloody sense to ask.

Jim tries to tell himself it's just the emotions of being away from home for so damned long spilling over, but he's not sold on the excuse as his tears well over his eyes and down his cheeks.

“I-I-I'm sorry, Mammy!” Jim sobs.

Mrs Moran's expression flickers softly. In all these years, that's the first time he hasn't stumbled over the word.

Despite the warmth in her chest, Sebastian's mother continues to spank Jim. His misbehaviour has been quite exceptional, and she's certainly going to ensure his punishment leaves a memorable impression.

“Mum..?” Sebastian murmurs.

“He's fine, Bastian,” Mrs Moran reassures. “He's a big, grown boy, and he's only getting a hand spanking. Isn't that right, Jimmy?”

Jim blushes again. “Y-Y-Yes, Mam.”

Mrs Moran paints Jim's thighs an even, stinging red before gently using her other hand to rub the sore flesh soothingly. “There now. You deserved that, did you not, little boy?”

Jim sniffles and nods emphatically.

Mrs Moran tuts but helps him up. “Now, now,” she warns, swinging one of his legs around to straddle her lap. “You can use your words, can you not?”

Jim buries his face into her shoulder as Mrs Moran pulls him tenderly against her chest. “Y-Y-Yes,” he mumbles. “I… I shouldn't have… I shouldn't have tried to do it on my own. I didn't mean to worry either of you.”

Mrs Moran rubs his back. “You won't make this mistake _ever again_ , will you?”

“No, Mammy,” Jim responds quickly. “I'm… I'm really sorry.”

“And what do you have to say to Sebastian?” Mrs Moran asks.

Jim looks up. His eyes are ringed in red; his cheeks blotchy and streaked with tears. He's adorable, full grown or not, and Sebastian's heart skips a little at the sight.

“I… I was doing my best,” Jim sniffles. “I know I really hurt you, but I was trying to keep you safe. I didn't mean to mess everything up. I'm sorry I hurt you, Sebby. I'm really sorry.”

Sebastian flicks his gaze to his mother. “Can I..?” She nods, and he quickly lifts Jim into his own embrace, bandaged arms not making the task an easy one.

Jim clings to the bigger man. “I'm sorry. I missed you awfully.”

Sebastian nods slowly. “I'm sorry I didn't wait longer.”

Jim presses his wet eyes closed painfully. “I'm just glad I wasn't too late.”

Sebastian drops his forehead down against Jim's. “I'm not me without you.”

Jim curls his fingers around the base of the bigger man's broad neck. “It hurts just to breathe when you're not with me.”

Sebastian nods. His skin brushes Jim's and it feels right.

Mrs Moran watches them both together and she smiles. Then she clears her throat.


	5. Connections

Sebastian is embarrassed that his mother saw fit to spank his thighs as though he wasn't at all a grown man or of a sizeable build. For all that Jim is a great many fearsome things, it seems much more acceptable for Jim to be given a smacking: he's vulnerable to terrible ideas, he's small for his age, he's much younger, and undeniably has mummy issues. Sebastian is certain he himself should know better. 

It occurs to the blond that all of the most painful or embarrassing physical chastisements his mother ever gave him came about because he had scared her. As a child Sebastian had not seen the link, had not considered provoking his father to come under this umbrella although of course it did, and Sebastian had been very bitter.

It occurs to Sebastian that he is not bitter anymore, although he is embarrassed. He is forty-three years of age and he has just been spanked and sent to his room by his mother.

Jim lies sprawled on his side near Sebastian. They are not snuggling, but they are touching. It's a start.

Jim finds it easier to talk about Mrs Moran than the fragile situation between his husband and himself. “She didn't mention my scars,” the brunet says.

Sebastian understands this to mean not the collection of scars left by Patrick Brook -devil torment his soul- but the large, swooping scar Sebastian had made upon Jim's skin with a drop point knife shortly before they were engaged.

The memory makes Sebastian's stomach hurt.

“Could be worse,” the blond says, “she could have pantsed me and seen _my_ scar.”

Jim snorts, even though he's not sure it's yet okay to find that funny. Sebastian has many scars, but it is obvious the man is referring to the small brand Jim once left on the underside of Sebastian's genitals. Sebastian and Jim might share a surname, but Jim is in no doubt Mam would know the 'M' stood as much for 'mine' as 'Moriarty.' 

They hear Mrs Moran's tread on the stairs and Sebastian tries not to feel comforted that Jim unconsciously leans closer to him in wariness. Recently spanked to tears or not, Sebastian is not quite ready to forgive the little brunet his large trespasses so lightly.

“I do hope your time out has given you both some time to think?” Mrs Moran says curtly.

Sebastian frowns in mild embarrassment and has to close his eyes against the sight of his bandaged arms when he lowers his gaze to avoid her's. There is nothing rebellious in Jim's own body language. His big, dark eyes look quite desperate to be accepted into his family again. It's clear Jim is willing to take any punishment in return.

Sebastian feels a tightness in his chest at the sight. Jim has openly missed belonging here but a sickly ache in Sebastian's tummy reminds the big blond that loving Jim has left significant, painful scarring. To let Jim back in at all is to forego all sense.

“Whilst you've been up here I've been on the phone to a friend of mine,” Mrs Moran states. Her voice is businesslike but her gaze has a maternal steeliness about it. Jim looks at her nervously and Sebastian watches him.

Mrs Moran crosses her thin arms. “If I am understanding things properly, it appears, James, that you got yourself into a bit of a corner with someone much cleverer than yourself, and felt the safest option for all concerned was… that vile _little stunt_ you pulled. Is this correct?”

Initially Jim looks a little huffy about the 'much cleverer' comment, but he quickly looks shamefaced as his mother-in-law continues talking. He nods guiltily.

Mrs Moran continues on as though she had not expected any other response. “If you were anything other than a foolish child, you might have imagined I have _considerable experience_ making unpleasant situations go away.”

Jim pales. He very much dislikes any possibility that he has put them all through hell for no good reason.

Mrs Moran gives him a chiding look as though she quite clearly reads his thoughts. “Yes, you should squirm, young man. Now, I have spoken to another _competent adult_ who has agreed to make your reasons for being in hiding no longer an issue.”

Jim looks about to burst into tears. Was the solution so easy? Had he been so stupid and sacrificed so much, so needlessly? Sebastian suddenly cannot look at him.

“ _Thank you, Mother_ ,” Mrs Moran prompts.

“ _Thank you, Mam,_ ” Jim responds in shamefaced earnestness. “I'm so sorry-”

“Shh,” she hushes. “This is what mothers are for.”

Jim swallows a lump in his throat. “How did you..?”

“In case it has escaped your notice, young man, I am a rather wealthy and well-connected old woman,” Mrs Moran chides. “I am entirely capable of having a mess cleared up.”

“We were bloody rich,” Sebastian says softly. “Why couldn't we have gone to The Crocodile ourselves?”

Mrs Moran looks exasperated at the men. “Darling, The Crocodile and I might go back a long way, but I am also friends with Euros' mother.”

Jim splutters. “ _What_?”

“Honestly, boys, Mrs Holmes might be terribly middle class but she's also _awfully_ connected with the Government. I did need someone to keep eyes off of Christabelle.”

“Christabelle Moran who deals with undercover operations and prisoner of war escapes? That Christabelle?” Jim queries in a strained voice.

“D'you know many other Christabelles?” Sebastian retorts. He does not sound remotely surprised by Jim knowing what is supposed to be Sebastian's sister's _secret_ occupation. However, the wheels turn behind his eyes and he suddenly looks shocked. “Rawdon,” he says.

Jim is not used to understanding things at a slower rate than his husband. “Rawdon, what?”

Sebastian directs his gaze at his mother. “Rawdon's why you got to know The Crocodile, isn't he?”

Mrs Moran sits on the edge of the bed. “My clever boy. Needless to say, you mustn't tell your father.”

Sebastian feels his heart thud and his pulse sing. Everything around him seems sharper. “You weren't changed by Rawdon's death; _getting him out_ changed you.”

“You are quite correct for once, darling,” Mrs Moran agrees.


	6. Silence

Sebastian and Jim are silent once Mrs Moran leaves. Jim had tried to apologise to his husband, and Sebastian had shot that down rather harshly, and not a word has been spoken between them since.

Jim gets up and pads over to the kitchen. Sebastian opens then closes his mouth crossly; he is tempted to tell Jim off for being in _his_ kitchen where _he_ cooks, but the irked blond does not want to break the silence.

Jim keeps his head lowered and lifts the topmost cardboard packet of Sebastian's strong painkillers. Sebastian shifts guiltily but keeps quiet.

The noise of running water as Jim fetches Sebastian a drink seems deafening amidst their strained lack of conversation.

Jim keeps his gaze dipped as he carried the water and medication over to Sebastian. The blond stares at a water droplet as it travels down the cold glass. He uses the moment of fixation to decide whether to acknowledge Jim at all. Jim's slender fingers flex minutely in discomfort.

Sebastian holds out his palm brusquely for the tablets. He pops two from their packaging and takes the glass from Jim with a little more force than intended. Water slops over the rim and runs down their fingers.

Sebastian does not apologise. Jim steps back as though thoroughly chastised anyway and wipes his wet hands on his clothing. The water on the blond's arms soaks into bandages.

Sebastian swallows the painkillers down and dumps the remaining water on the broken coffee table. He grunts at Jim's feet. The brunet has not sat back down.

Sebastian raises his gaze and Jim jumps back nervously. The smaller man scurries back to the kitchen as Sebastian watches in cool bemusement. Jim pulls a tray of mushrooms from the fridge and gestures to his husband with them warily.

Sebastian grunts.

“You said mushrooms help the body heal,” Jim whispers.

Sebastian squares his arms. They're much less intimidatingly thick, but Sebastian's icy expression flutters Jim's stomach worse than the man's bulk ever did. “Got anything for my heart?” Sebastian asks roughly.

Jim shakes his head. “Just me,” he says meekly.

“C'mere,” Sebastian growls.

Jim obeys and Sebastian reluctantly yanks Jim down beside him. The small brunet gives him a surprised, achingly hopeful look that Sebastian hates. The blond indicates the mushrooms. “Give us one then.”

Jim does so immediately. His small hand trembles.

Sebastian bites into his raw mushroom with a glower. He can feel Jim's anxious gaze on him still.

Sebastian swallows the last of the mushroom and directs his angry gaze at his husband. “You fucked up.”

Jim flinches but immediately bobs his head in a vehement nod. “I did,” he agrees regretfully.

“I am seriously fucking pissed at you,” Sebastian snarls. Jim grips his own elbows as though trying to make himself smaller. “ _However_ ,” Sebastian continues, “...I think we've lost enough time, don't you?”

Jim looks at Sebastian in open astonishment.

“I'm _still mad with you_ ,” Sebastian reiterates. “Like, _seriously fucking mad_. But… I'm not kicking you out.”

Jim shifts his weight in contrition. 

Sebastian gives him another ungovernable look. “I mean it. You'll… You'll have to accept that I'm going to be mad at you for some time. It's not going to just go away.”

Jim nods.

Sebastian stands, takes the mushrooms from the coffee table, and returns them to the fridge. “Get upstairs.”

Jim turns with a confused look. He drops his gaze and flushes. “Are you… um… I mean your mum...”

“I'm not going to spank you,” Sebastian says flatly.

Jim raises a hand anxiously to tug the hair near his tabletop scar. “If you wanted to… I mean, the belt, I...”

Sebastian stares expressionlessly.

“I'd deserve it. If… If it helped,” Jim suggests.

“Not sure I could control myself with you right now,” Sebastian admits. “So drop the issue, and go upstairs.”

A thought passes over Jim's face which makes him grey, but he nods all the same and heads towards the staircase in a quiet act of obeisance. 

Sebastian follows. He frowns at Jim's posture, and circles him on long legs at the top of the stairs. “You fucking idiot. Is that… Do you really think I'd do that to you?”

Jim tugs noncommittally at his sleeves. “Don't know what you're talking about,” he lies quietly.

“I can see the look on your fucking face, James,” Sebastian snaps. He runs a large hand through what is left of his hair and strides towards the bed, casting Jim a disgusted look over his shoulder. “Fucking _Christ_.” 

Jim shrugs. “I'd let you,” he says.

Sebastian picks up Jim's oldest onesie and throws it at him. “I wouldn't make you apologise with your body.”

Jim protests, “But then what-?”

“I'm tired, Jim,” Sebastian sighs. “I'm sore, and I'm tired, and I just want you near me when I sleep. Is that-”

Jim strips down to his undershirt and boxers silently and pulls his worn onesie on. He walks towards the bed.

Sebastian deflates a little. “Thank you,” he says gruffly.

Jim climbs onto the bed and shuffles up it as though he's not in his mid thirties. Sebastian takes off his jeans and lies on top of the bed.

“Seb, I'm not going anywhere,” Jim whispers gently. He pulls the covers back.

Sebastian looks at the younger man balefully.

Jim tries not to smile and pointedly clambers under the duvet himself. “I'm not going anywhere, see?”

Sebastian stares at Jim hard. Buckling, the blond climbs in and allows Jim to pull the bedding over them both.

“Do… D'you want a cuddle?” Jim asks.

Sebastian shakes his head but mouths 'yes' anyway.

Jim scoots over with his back to Sebastian and twists around to very carefully place the big man's bandaged arms over his own smaller form. Sebastian seems startled by the touch but does not move away.

They don't say anything else for a long time. When Sebastian breaks the silence it is to hoarsely say, “I told you I didn't like you playing with Sherlock.”

Jim does not immediately reply. “He reminded me of my Ma,” the brunet confesses in a whisper. 

“What?” Sebastian is so surprised he forgets to even sound annoyed.

“Addict. I always wanted my brains to have come from her. They didn't come from my Da,” Jim whispers. “But then...”

“Did you ask your Gran?” Sebastian asks.

“Didn't dare,” Jim admits. “If I hadn't...”

Sebastian nods against Jim's shoulder. The brunet is surprised to find Sebastian so close.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sebastian asks.

“No thanks,” Jim replies. “Not yet. If… If that's okay?”

Sebastian sighs. “I'd like to know, at some point, what… I mean _why_..? But… not yet.”

“I was stupid, is what it comes down to,” Jim says.

“I should have protected you better from your stupid fucking notions,” Sebastian says. His voice sounds funny.

Jim squeezes Sebastian's nearest hand. “Don't blame yourself. This was all my mess, love.”

The word comes out before Jim can call it back. He freezes, not wishing to cause Sebastian any more pain.

Sebastian merely sniffs and pulls Jim a little closer awkwardly with his savaged arms. “I hope you've got some really good grovelling in you to make up for everything,” the blond tries to joke.

Jim twines their fingers. “Prepare to be amazed.”


	7. Breakfast

Jim wakes crushed under the weight of another body and with a strange fabric irritating his face. It is disorientating for a while and he thinks he has dreamt of Sebastian, has the blond's scent in his nostrils, but that can't possibly…

The bigger body grunts and stirs, moving large arms from around Jim's shoulders. Bandages move across Jim's line of sight and the memories of the last few days flood back.

“Jesus Christ, Tiger,” Jim whispers. He's full of relief at having Sebastian back, yet equally full of guilt at knowing his faked death was foolish, and laced through all of that is the sheer abject _horror_ that Sebastian had saw fit to… well.

“Your bandages need changed today, dar- Seb,” Jim corrects himself.

The big -but no longer _quite_ so big- blond lifts his head marginally to squint at Jim. The smaller man waits as Sebastian blinks at him in confusion before recognition lights his blue eyes.

“Morning,” Jim says softly.

Sebastian purses his lips gently. “I'm pissed at you,” he whispers.

“Yes,” Jim agrees.

Sebastian pulls him closer, hissing softly but unrepentantly at how the pressure hurts his destroyed forearms. “I'm also glad you're home. You exasperating little bastard, you.”

Jim's lips twitch and he accepts the excuse to burrow closer to the husband he has desperately missed. Sebastian's once broad chest gives off heat and comfort. “Did you miss me?” Jim whispers.

Sebastian gives the slim Irishman an unimpressed look and bites Jim's earlobe firmly. Tugging on it possessively, Sebastian growls before letting go. “Only when I breathed.”

Jim wraps his fingers in the warm chain around Sebastian's neck. The small man strokes the dog tags and the smooth, round metal which once resided on Sebastian's left hand. “Really?” Jim murmurs.

Sebastian hears the vulnerable, hopeful lift to his husband's lowered voice. Sebastian must still be half asleep, because he kisses the shell of Jim's ear and admits, “I missed you even when… you know...” He gestures with his uppermost bound wrist.

Jim abruptly breaks free of Sebastian's grip and bolts for the bathroom. Sebastian watches him in alarm for a moment then climbs out of bed. “Jim?” he asks in concern.

Jim has knelt before the toilet retching. He waves a hand dismissively at his partner.

“Kitten, are you okay?” Sebastian asks unselfconsciously, too distracted to consider the weight of the nickname. He approaches Jim and kneels down before him.

Jim finishes and sits up with tight shoulders. He takes a juddering breath, looking embarrassed. Sebastian rubs Jim's back cautiously.

It occurs to Jim that Sebastian used his pet name. It both comforts Jim and yet makes him feel worse. The nickname is a reminder of how much Sebastian _loved_ him during their marriage and before it. The nickname is a reminder that Jim made a monumental miscalculation that cost him _years_ of time with Sebastian and…

...And that mistake almost cost Jim Sebastian's _life_.

Sebastian continues to pet his back still.

Jim twitches his face awkwardly at Sebastian and stands to approach the sink. The slight man wipes his mouth and splashes cool water on his face.

“Sorry,” Jim says.

“Are you sick?” Sebastian asks.

Jim looks shamefaced. “No. I...”

At first Sebastian does not understand, but then he feels the weight of Jim's gaze on the stained gauze of his arms. Jim, whose stomach was always steely in the most brutal bouts of paid violence, had just experienced nausea triggered by Sebastian's bandages.

“Hey,” Sebastian says.

Jim looks up quickly.

“I did it because I thought you were gone. You won't lose me whilst I know you're alive,” Sebastian says. He doesn't presume to say 'here' just 'alive'.

“I almost lost _everything_ ,” Jim says hoarsely.

Sebastian swallows. “Yeah. But you didn't.” He doesn't know what else to say.

“I don't know how to fix this,” Jim says, sounding lost and overwhelmed.

Sebastian shrugs. “Just stay.”

“Do you really want me to?” Jim asks quietly.

Sebastian stares for only a beat before he walks over and gingerly reaches for Jim's hip. Gently enough to avoid spooking his highly strung brunet, Sebastian lightly strokes the scarring there. “Of course I do, Arty.”

The downy hairs on Jim's pale skin rise as though they prefer Sebastian's company to Jim's own. The brunet does not feel offended: he prefers Sebastian to himself too.

Touching Jim hurts. Sebastian's trauma at losing Jim is not so much healed as it is aggravated by Jim's presence and Jim's smell and Jim's closeness. All the same, the blond dips his chin over Jim's scalp and rests it there. Sebastian keeps a hand on Jim's scarification and coils his other arm loosely over Jim's thin - _too thin_ \- frame.

“You're too good for me,” Jim says dully.

“Maybe, but you're mine all the same,” Sebastian responds.

Jim tugs Sebastian's arm tighter around himself, feeling selfish for doing so but unable to deny himself the desperately needed contact.

“Thank you,” Jim says solemnly.

Sebastian grunts but does not let go. Jim remains in his arms seeming reluctant to move or speak.

Eventually Sebastian gives a soft sigh and straightens his back. Jim gives him a startled, worried look at the retraction of close physical contact. Sebastian gives the brunet a small but reassuring smile and pats Jim's bottom forcefully.

Jim stumbles and twists to give Sebastian a surprised look. 

“I need more painkillers. Go make my breakfast,” Sebastian commands.

Jim stares at him stupidly for a moment. They both know that is not their usual routine.

Sebastian gives Jim a little push. “You heard me. You're going to stay so you're damn well going to make yourself useful. There's bacon in the fridge; don't let the fat spit at you and don't burn yourself on the stove.”

“I can fry you some bacon,” Jim disparages indignantly.

“My memories of our married life say otherwise,” Sebastian teases. He winks and makes a shooing gesture.

Jim is uncertain how to process Sebastian joking with such sad blue eyes. “I'll be back up soon,” the brunet says. “Get yourself back into bed where it's warm.”

Sebastian shakes his head. “I'm going to go for a shower.”

Jim stares at his husband's bandages and this time his expression is more forceful than guilty. “No you're not. You'll get those wet.”

“You said I need to change them anyway,” Sebastian argues.

“You got mauled by a tiger so I'm going to presume you know that getting your arms unbandaged and put under a strong jet of water is neither a barrel of laughs nor a splendid idea,” Jim drawls.

“I'm a big boy,” Sebastian replies.

“You can tell your mam that if I need to call her,” Jim warns.

Sebastian's ears redden after yesterday's chastisement. He narrows his eyes and retorts, “You're not going to _tell_ on me.”

Jim gives Sebastian a steely look. “I can give one of our brothers a call if you'd rather have their help but you are _not_ dealing with your bandages alone. You're going to get back under the covers and wait for your breakfast.”

Sebastian's stomach knots. “You don't get to come back here and tell me what to do. I-”

“I don't deserve to tell you what to do,” Jim agrees, “but _I'm here_. So I'm going to look out for you. If you don't like it you'll just have to put crumbs on my side of the bed or something.”

Sebastian's gaze flickers. “Fuck you, Jim.”

“Go back to bed or I'm phoning your mum. You need your meds so I'm not going to drag this out,” Jim warns.

“I'm a fucking grown man!” Sebastian snaps.

“And you're getting breakfast in bed, so shut up and do as you're told, love,” Jim responds.


	8. Granny's Samples

Sebastian has reluctantly accepted Jim's assertion that he requires help with his bandages and cannot just shower as he pleases. However, the bathroom is the one place Jim has not followed, so Sebastian has been hiding out in the empty bath for the past fifteen minutes or so. It's nothing personal, except for the fact that it all feels so fucking personal.

Sebastian sighs and shifts his weight uncomfortably. He's going to have to leave his hiding place any minute now, or Jim's going to come asking after his whereabouts, and the big blond feels stupid admitting having the one thing he wants back in his life is more than a tad overwhelming.

Sebastian sniffs and wipes his face on a dry edge of his bandages. The pressure itself doesn't hurt his cuts but twisting his mauled muscles does.

They make him feel stupid, the bandages. They seem proof to Sebastian of how foolish he was to believe all the evidence which insisted Jim was never, ever, ever coming home.

More shameful than that humiliation is the feeling Sebastian cannot shake that his meltdown was worth it: Jim came back – came _home_ \- because of these deep gouges.

There's significant tendon damage. Sebastian might never be as talented with a gun again.

The big man does not care. He knows he should – he _loves_ guns- but the only thing which seems important is Jim.

Even Rawdon being alive – and Mum _helping fake his death_ \- doesn't really feel so important to Sebastian right now.

All that matters is Jim, and Jim being _home_.

And yet here Sebastian hides, in their bathtub.

Jim knocks on the door and shatters the silence, which doesn't really matter, because Sebastian's head is far from silent anyway.

“Seb?” Jim says cautiously. “I don't want to interrupt, but your ma just called.”

Sebastian blinks. It's clear from Jim's voice that he knows Sebastian is avoiding him, but the brunet does not sound resentful.

“What? What does she want?” Sebastian asks.

Jim sounds as oblivious to Mrs Moran's reasoning as Sebastian feels. He replies, “She's sending a car around.”

The blond sighs and climbs out of the bath. “I won't be long,” he calls.

Jim stares at the closed door. “Take your time,” he says quietly.

Sebastian washes his face and grimaces at his reflection in the mirror above. “D'you think I've got time to shave?” he asks through the door.

“I think you can milk being ill for a few more days before she expects you to look your best,” Jim answers.

Sebastian opens the door with a sigh. “I'm not ill though, am I?”

Jim looks at him. “No, but you need rest.”

Sebastian rubs his stubble and sighs again. “Tomorrow,” he commands himself.

Jim fetches Sebastian trainers as the big man starts to shrug out of his jogging bottoms. Sebastian looks at Jim's hands dubiously.

“She's not going to scold you overmuch for dressing like that just this once,” Jim says. He gestures with the trainers.

Sebastian concedes and pulls his grey joggers back up blond thighs that are not quite as firm and thick as they used to be. Sebastian takes the trainers and shoves his feet into them. He stares as Jim drops to the floor before him and knots his laces.

“I'm not that much of an invalid,” Sebastian says. It isn't the real reason his stomach is suddenly twisting.

Jim looks like he does not immediately realise the intimacy of the old habit or Sebastian's hypersensitivity to any such familiarities. It's not something Jim did often, only when Seb was hurt from work or sick. When realisation lights the brunet's face he darts away guiltily.

Jim fetches Sebastian a matching oversized hooded zipper (that once struggled to contain all Sebastian's muscles) and helps the blond into the sleeves.

Sebastian follows Jim to the car.

Moran Manor looks as forbidding as ever. “I presume Dad's out?” Sebastian murmurs.

“I guess so. She didn't say,” Jim replies. He looks uncomfortable at the prospect of being near Sir Moran.

It is easy to tell by the gait of the servants that their master is indeed elsewhere. The couple are ushered into Mrs Moran's drawing room and served tea.

Mrs Moran stares at them both hard over the rim of her good china. The boys feel a thrill of trepidation.

“I'll jump right into it since time is of the essence,” Mrs Moran announces.

Sebastian and Jim exchange looks with each other.

“James, darling, what age are you?” she asks.

Jim blinks owlishly. “Thirty six...”

Mrs Moran nods as though she already knows precisely this. She turns to Sebastian. “And what age are you, young man?”

“Forty three...” Sebastian admits warily. He can feel his ears turning pink, thinking of his mother's hands on the back of his thighs earlier.

“Exactly,” Mrs Moran declares. She crosses one leg over her knee. “These are not Oscar Wilde's days. I will not accept you pair living like bachelors.”

Sebastian's hand goes immediately to his chest. His fingers curl tightly around the wedding ring hanging from his chain.

Jim swallows and stares down at his lap.

“We're working on it,” Sebastian says quietly.

“Oh, I'm not talking marital relations, dear, that's your own business,” Mrs Moran responds. She curls her lips, “And in any matter, I have no doubt you'll smooth out your troubles.”

Sebastian's brow wrinkles. “Then..?”

“It's quite simple, Sebastian. You're both getting on a bit. I myself am getting on in years...”

Sebastian and Jim exchange confused looks, automatically turning to each other for help despite their rift.

“You're not old,” Jim murmurs to his mother in law.

Mrs Moran fixes him with a skeptical expression. “I am far too old to be dragging things out much further.”

“Are you getting a divorce?” Sebastian blurts.

Mrs Moran's entire body jerks in a severe flinch and her knuckles turn white around her near empty teacup. She gives her son an utterly scathing look.

Sebastian leans back in his chair feeling suitably chastised. “S'not like he wouldn't have it coming,” the blond mumbles.

Mrs Moran gives her child an arch sideways look and waves her hand dismissively with a fluidity that belies her age or the recentness of her evident disgust. 

Jim turns colourless. “You're not sick are you?” he whispers starkly.

Mrs Moran's expression softens. “I am talking about the pair of you, foolish things. I am in perfectly perfunctory health.”

“We're fine,” Sebastian says with a firmness he is uncertain he feels. Jim turns with a swift searching glance but the brunet seems to understand Sebastian's misgivings silently.

“Exactly,” Mrs Moran all but crows.

The men look at her.

She makes them wait as she finishes her tea and stares at the leaves which remain within the bowl of her cup. The woman looks up with sharp eyes. “It's high time I had grandchildren, boys.”

The couple choke. “You… You've got those from Gus,” Sebastian manages to point out.

“I want grandchildren from the pair of _you_ ,” Mrs Moran asserts. “My boys.”

“We did explain that we can't have babies,” Jim mutters.

“Which is a smile of Fate's, because they would ruin Sebastian's figure,” Mrs Moran answers. “As much as one can ruin what's left. James, you're going to make sure my silly child feeds himself properly. He's gotten so thin.”

Jim looks torn between agreeing and sending a smirk at Sebastian over whose figure would be ruined. Sebastian looks shocked by his mother's allknowing ability and squares his shoulders unhappily at the 'thin' comment.

“I'm still bigger than most men,” Sebastian grumbles.

“You're still very handsome, darling, but Morans always present themselves as their best,” Mrs Moran responds. Sebastian rolls his eyes petulantly but looks vaguely mollified.

Mrs Moran runs her expensive nails over the gilt rim of her teacup. “So that's settled. You'll make me a grandmother.”

“Nothing is settled and you don't even care for children,” Sebastian protests.

“Do not be ridiculous, Bastian, your children shall be beautiful,” Mrs Moran dismisses.

“Um, I wouldn't be a good parent,” Jim interrupts.

Mrs Moran bats her eyelids at him unsympathetically. “You can afford help, and as you're grounded indefinitely for your wretched misbehaviour you'll have plenty of free time to raise a child.”

Jim flushes, feeling disorientated enough to dig his palms into his hands. “I don't know what you do with a baby. I've never-”

“There's always a first time,” Mrs Moran scoffs. “Any other foolish objections?”

“Where would a baby come from?” Sebastian drawls.

“Really Sebastian, you're forty three, not three,” Mrs Moran says. “Naturally we would take samples of you both to put in some well paid girl.”

“Why both?” Jim asks with his nose wrinkled in incomprehension.

Mrs Moran turns and stares at him unnervingly. “Family is important,” she lectures slowly. 

Jim shrinks back, feeling both scolded and loved. “But surely the Moran line-”

“Will be carried on by you _both_ , James,” Mrs Moran says firmly.

“In your dreams, Mum,” Sebastian protests. “We don't need-”

Mrs Moran gives a long suffering sigh and chides him with her gaze. “My child, whatever possibly gives you the notion that either of you have any choice in this?”

Jim's stomach flips. Sebastian merely gives the woman an exasperated look. “In case it's escaped your calculations, Mum, you kind of need more from us than just our consent to move forward.”

“Oh don't be ridiculous, Sebastian, I already have samples of you both,” says Mrs Moran.

Jim splutters. He feels faint as Sebastian casts a quick, regretful look at him and murmurs, “But we haven't… since...”

“Welcome to being married,” Mrs Moran says tartly. “Frozen samples have a shelf life of a dozen years.”

“I don't even want to know how you obtained anything,” Sebastian grimaces.

Mrs Moran sniffs. “You're virile boys.”

Jim is quiet. He pictures the first time he buggered Sebastian under this roof; their wedding night. He and Sebastian couldn't be peeled off of each other for days. The slender Irishman wrinkles his nose wondering whether it was semen left in this very building that his mother in law had obtained. Surely it wouldn't keep at room temperature?

Jim does his best to focus on the science. Remembering his once thoroughly delightful sex life with his husband makes Jim feel sick in a way theft of their ejaculate somehow doesn't. Jim tries not to think about Sebastian's large, warm body against his own, opening trustfully for his own… Fuck. The grimace Jim makes is pained.

Sebastian does not notice his brunet's thoughts. Instead the big man sighs as though half defeated and shows his forearms. “ _Mum_. Do you really think I'm suitable to be a parent?”

“It's about time you grew up, Sebastian, and it's not as if you're ever likely to do that again,” Mrs Moran answers calmly.

“How do you _know_?” Sebastian asks.

Mrs Moran gives him a patronising look. “I know because Jim won't ever leave his family again. We - _he_ almost lost you.”

She looks exasperated by the sudden prick of tears both men experience. “Oh, give me a cuddle both of you, if you must, but don't either of you _dare_ start snivelling.”


	9. Shock

There's a certain thickness between your ringing ears that you get when you've been exposed to a lot of loud gunshots or an explosion recently. It almost feels like your head is padded with cotton wool, which can be disorientating enough to knock off your balance, if you're unused to it. With your motor functions a bit wavy, your hearing a bit faint and echoey, and your thoughts a bit floaty, it almost feels like you're underwater.

It is how Sebastian feels as he meanders towards the car. Jim has climbed into the back of it ahead of him and is fastening his seatbelt smartly. Sebastian stumbles in and fumbles with his own.

The driver comes around his side and slams the door.

It almost makes Sebastian flinch. He thinks he might be in shock.

Jim is sitting prim and silent beside Sebastian with his small hands stacked upon his lap. The brunet's right hand twitches beneath its partner, nudging Jim's wedding band around and around his ring finger.

“I'm sorry,” Sebastian says thickly. He swallows with a small frown. His mouth feels dry.

Jim snaps around sharply to look at him. The brunet seems to watch Sebastian very carefully whilst asking, “For what?”

Sebastian fusses with a bit of tape on his bandages. It has folded over on itself and is displaying little bits of fluff from the hoody his mother mostly avoided mentioning. Sebastian shrugs his broad shoulders. “For what my mum said.”

Jim faces the back of their driver's neck again. “Why is that?”

Sebastian does not know what to say. “Because obviously you won't want kids with me?”

Jim continues to stare forward. “Because?”

Sebastian feels even more lost for a moment. “Because it's too soon?” he hazards. “Because we don't know anything about having kids? Because in our line of business...”

“Do you want to keep the business now that I'm back?” Jim asks.

“Do I… What?” Sebastian asks stupidly.

“The business,” Jim repeats patiently. “You've been keeping your side ticking over and I've been managing a few things myself, but I have been considering a… semi retirement, of sorts.”

Sebastian blinks. It is the first time Jim has said much about what he's been doing whilst they were apart, other than watching him of course. “You want to retire?”

“Don't you?” Jim counters. “At your heart you're a sniper, and like a footballer, you only have a certain amount of years before your knees go.”

“I can afford knee surgery,” Sebastian says dully. He looks Jim over. “You'd be bored out of your mind with nothing to run.”

Jim tenses his shoulders. “A household?”

Sebastian snorts bitterly. “This isn't funny, Jim.”

“Isn't it?” the brunet responds. “Seems like a cosmic joke to me.”

“Why aren't you saying no?” Sebastian asks.

Jim cocks his head. “Do you want me to say no?”

“How can you say anything else?” Sebastian presses.

Jim is quiet and the big blond thinks no answer will be forthcoming. Eventually Jim says, “If I was to build a family with anyone, it could only be with you.”

“We can't exactly make a baby by ourselves, unless you've been building some pretty nifty labs whilst you've been busy,” Sebastian says.

“I don't mean without a woman,” Jim sneers, pretty certain Sebastian just want him to spell things out, “I mean… I couldn't imagine me with a family. Except… with you. It might not be so bad with you.”

“Are you fucking with me?” Sebastian asks sharply.

“I've got nothing to gain from that, Seb,” Jim reminds the blond.

“Why would you want kids with _me_?” Sebastian demands.

Jim grimaces. “I didn't say I did, Basher. I said if I was going to have kids with anyone it would have to be with you. Those are not the same thing.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Whatever, you little prick. Why would you want me?”

“You're my fucking husband,” Jim mutters. “Why'd you think?”

Sebastian fidgets with his chain, his dog tags clattering off of each other and his ring. “I don't know,” he mutters. As grumpy as his face looks, Jim can tell he feels vulnerable.

“Just because I left doesn't mean there was ever anything wrong with you,” Jim says quietly. “You'd be more than adequate: you'd be good.”

“If I was so fucking adequate you wouldn't have left,” Sebastian snarls.

“If you'd been any less utterly perfect I might have been able to justify being selfish enough to stay when I didn't think I had any other options to keep you safe,” Jim replies.

“I wasn't perfect,” Sebastian states harshly, “because you _left_. You wouldn't have left me if I was.”

“How do you know?” Jim asks.

“Because if our positions were _reversed_ ,” Sebastian curls his lip, “there's no way I could have left you.”

“You would if you had to keep me safe,” Jim declares.

Sebastian swallows. The car is drawing up and he suddenly has to get out of it, a lump rising in his throat. Sebastian unclips his seatbelt and is out the vehicle before the car has come to a halt.

Jim sighs and follows afterwards. “Sebby.”

Sebastian sniffs. “Don't.”

“Sebastian. Sebastian I'm _here_ ,” Jim soothes, trotting after the blond.

Sebastian slams his key by the lift's reader and spins around with upset, narrowed eyes. “But you _weren't_.”

Jim drags the bigger man into the lift by an elbow. “Yes, but I'm here _now_.”

“I can't just get over it!” Sebastian wails in a voice lost between rage and grief.

Jim pinches the bridge of his nose then looks up and snaps his fingers. “Your phone. Personal one. Give me it.”

Sebastian's face softens in confusion. “What?”

“ _Now_ , Sebastian,” Jim orders.

Sebastian hands over his phone in automatic response to Jim's familiar stern tone. “Wait, you-”

Jim downloads an app and synchronises their phones before showing the bigger man. “Here, you see? You can track my phone.”

“Someone else could hack this,” Sebastian protests.

“I don't care as long as it makes you feel better,” Jim states.

Sebastian switches off the app but does not delete it from Jim's phone. “I care.”

“Tiger, if you want to get me a shock collar that zaps me every time we're out of range of each other, then I'll let you. All I care about is that you're happy,” Jim says.

Sebastian stares at Jim until the lift doors open. “How serious are you?” he asks.

“Serious enough I'd let you put a tracking chip in me,” Jim says quietly.

Sebastian grunts thoughtfully and steps out into their living room. “Don't tempt me.”

Jim crosses over to the breakfast bar and automatically fetches his husband's painkillers. “I mean it. Any gesture that makes you feel secure in us, I agree to.”

Sebastian accepts the glass Jim fills with water. “Even kids?” the blond asks with a sardonic smile.

Jim pops the tablets from their packaging. “I don't think anyone should have kids to save a relationship, but if you want a kid, Seb, you've got my support.”

Sebastian rubs his bandages. “I might not be healed in nine months.”

“The whole process probably takes years,” Jim says, “and I'm not going anywhere. However long it takes you to heal, I'll be here.”

Sebastian takes his medication. “I don't know how we'd explain a shock collar to a kid.”


	10. Cry

Jim shifts uncomfortably and toys with the frayed material of the tattered couch. “You're staring at me,” he mumbles. His tone is as awkward and unnerved as it used to be when he was just a teen.

Sebastian bares his teeth. “I'm allowed.”

Jim pulls his shirt collar higher and frowns shyly. “There are better ways to punish me.”

“Already considering that, if you think of that shock collar as a punishment,” Sebastian smirks.

Jim rubs his bare neck warily. “You going to collar me?” he mutters.

Sebastian snorts but gives the smaller man a surprised, calculating sweep of his blue eyes. “Like you'd let me?”

Jim shrugs stiffly. “I offered, didn't I?” he grouses.

“Thought it was just words. Not exactly like you, is it, being accountable?” 

Jim winces quietly in response and Sebastian adds, “That wasn't meant as a dig.”

Jim raises his gaze to the bigger man for a moment then looks down and fusses with his wedding ring nervously. “I've always relied on you to be the one I'm answerable to...”

Sebastian raises a brow. “So you don't make fucking stupid decisions like leaving me?” he asks dryly.

Jim squirms. “I don't _think_ properly. Like I think, but too much, and I miss things and...” He makes a face. “It helps when you're… When I know you won't let me make stupid choices.”

“Is it not enough to know I'll bust your skull open if you ever fuck up like that again?” Sebastian asks guardedly.

Jim snickers weakly. “That's more a comfort to me.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes and kicks Jim lightly. “You catastrophe.”

The smaller man smirks and returns the action. “Yeah, but you love me.”

They freeze and Sebastian stares hard at the surprise, fright and guilt that flash across his husband's face.

“Yeah, well you're not the only stupid one in this relationship,” Sebastian says carefully.

“Do you want me to stop saying it?” Jim asks quietly. “Until… Until we're okay again?”

Sebastian heaves a deep sigh and covers Jim's hand with his own. “I hate you for the past few years, but… It doesn't mean I don't, you know, love you. I'll always love you.”

Jim's lip wobbles and he grasps Sebastian's hand fiercely. “'M'sorry.”

Sebastian swallows then tries to glower. “You're going to be. When I can bear to touch you long enough to fuck you I am going to _tear you apart_.”

Jim giggles almost hysterically. “Promise?” he whimpers.

“I'm your husband; of course I promise,” Sebastian grumbles.

“Can… Can we cuddle? Or is that too much?” Jim asks with a trembling voice. 

“Are you going to fucking cry on me?” Sebastian asks, trying to mask the ache in his chest with a gruffness in his tone. Jim looks tempted to lie, but the blond pulls him by the arm. “Come here then you exasperating little fucker.”

Jim falls into the embrace gratefully but does not dare relax into Sebastian's body too much. The big man rolls his eyes at Jim's stiff posture. “It's alright,” Sebastian encourages reluctantly. “I won't break.”

Jim pushes closer then freezes and pulls back, feeling selfish. Sebastian sighs and crushes the frustrating little brunet to his chest. Jim feels tears sting his eyes and tries to twist his head away. Sebastian feels the wetness through his clothing and presses a quick kiss onto the back of Jim's scalp. 

“You've still got me Arty, we'll be alright,” Sebastian promises.

“I'm so, so sorry, Tiger,” Jim declares.

Sebastian ignores how raw his gauze covered arms feel as he holds Jim tightly. “I know you are sweetheart, I know...”

Jim sniffs wetly. “I-I-I _missed_ you, s-so m- _much_...”

Sebastian rubs circles in the slender brunet's quivering back. “I'd have been _so_ pissed if you didn't,” the bigger man whispers warmly.

Jim cackles pathetically. “Thank you.”

Sebastian squeezes the brunet a little further into his chest in response.

“ _I love you_ ,” Jim whispers.

Sebastian swallows and reaches down to adjust Jim's legs. Holding him tightly, Sebastian stands with a neutral expression that hides the strain on his suffering forearms.

“What are you doing?” Jim asks.

“Taking you upstairs,” Sebastian grunts. “You're always tired after a good cry.”

“I'm supposed to be looking after you,” Jim says.

“We look after each other,” Sebastian answers. “Keep sobbing your heart out if it helps; I've got you.”

“I don't deserve this,” Jim states blankly.

Sebastian carries him to the master bedroom. “A relationship isn't about keeping score, mo chroí. I want you to feel better.”

Jim drops his head on Sebastian's shoulder. It isn't as comfortable as it used to be and Jim feels further determination to build the drawn blond back up to a happy weight. “I don't understand why you don't want me to suffer.”

Sebastian grins wryly. “I do want you to suffer, but I can focus on that in the long term. Right now I know you need a cry, a cuddle, and a good nap.”

Jim giggles. “I accept.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes playfully. “Like you get a say in anything anymore, brat?”

Jim gives a small smile. “Still too mad to spank me?”

Sebastian snorts and drops his husband on the bed. “Far, far too livid. Consider yourself lucky.”

Jim stares at him. “I am lucky. I've got… I've got _you_.”

Sebastian looks away and retreats to their drawer set, from which he pulls a pair of Jim's old pyjamas. The brunet's dark eyes flicker as Sebastian returns holding out the clothing as something between a barrier and a peace offering.

“C'mere,” Sebastian whispers. He puts the sleepwear to the side.

Jim lets the big man help him out of his clothes. “Are you sure this is okay?” the brunet asks quietly.

Sebastian shrugs. “Not entirely, but I'm going to have to get used to it again. Arms up.”

Jim obeys with a pout. “You don't have to.”

Sebastian tugs the brunet's pyama top over dark hair and thin shoulders. Sebastian isn't the only one who has lost weight during their separation, and the cool silk slips down to pool past Jim's hips.

“Up,” Sebastian orders.

Jim allows his husband to undress his bottom half and is uncertain how on earth to feel about it. Sebastian's expression is guarded and he reaches for the silk bottoms. He holds them out for Jim to step into. Jim tries to tell himself he is sexually unmoved by these gestures and it is not remotely motivated by how unpleasant his pyamas feel when wet with arousal.

Sebastian stands and wipes at Jim's wet cheeks. “Get under the covers.”

“That snuggle still on offer?” Jim asks meekly.

“I'm apparently still a sadomasochist,” Sebastian answers dryly. He tucks Jim in and kicks off his joggers before climbing into bed after him.

Jim feels a thrill of joy as Sebastian pulls him close. “I love you,” the brunet repeats.

Sebastian gives him an awkward kiss. “Yes. I know you do.”

“I'll be good,” Jim promises.

Sebastian gets comfortable and tugs Jim's hair lightly. “I don't need you to be good, baby, I just need you to _stay_.”

“I can do that,” Jim says.


	11. Derry

“Mum? Did you let yourself in?” Sebastian asks groggily.

Mrs Moran arches a thin brow wryly. “Honestly, Bastian, in your line of work you should be more observant.”

Jim wriggles out from beneath Sebastian's big arm. “What are you doing here, Mam?”

“Hello to you too. It is marvellous timing for you both to get reacquainted with each other,” Mrs Moran declares with an intimidating smile, “for I have such splendid news.”

“We're not… Is Dad dead?” Sebastian asks drowsily.

Mrs Moran gives her son a sour look. “Nothing to do with your father, but 'parenthood' would be _warm_.”

Jim blinks and clambers on top of the duvet in his navy pyjamas. “Did you find a, um, surrogate?” he squeaks.

“Oh we are beyond that, darling,” Mrs Moran smiles. “She's inseminated.”

“What?” Sebastian roars. He throws back his covers.

“She's perfect; there was no need to waste time involving you,” Mrs Moran declares breezily.

“ _I kind of care whose body my seed goes into_ ,” Sebastian exclaims.

His Mother arches a thin brow pointedly. “You didn’t before, and the sample is half James’ too.”

“ _That’s different_ ,” Sebastian hisses. “I shouldn’t even have to tell you why that’s _different_. And I don’t want Jim’s _samples_ being put anywhere without our consent either!”

“Sebastian, you are being a child,” Mrs Moran scolds.

“If I’m being such a child maybe you shouldn’t be in a rush to give us one!” Sebastian retorts.

“Enough. Stop making a scene, young man, and go shower. I expect you both to be ready to sit down for breakfast in an hour, then we are going to meet her,” Mrs Moran says.

Sebastian turns to Jim. “Tell Mum how out of line this is. She’ll listen to _you_.”

The brunet hesitates. He knows Sebastian is right: Mrs Moran’s behaviour is shockingly forward and unacceptable.

However…

The woman has deliberately included him quite explicitly in her family plans. He knows family does not necessarily equate to any sort of permanence, but he also knows that his mother in law actually does consider family to be so. Her refusal to divorce her husband testifies to that.

She has chosen him, Jim, to be involved in giving her grandchildren. She has chosen to make him a significant member of the family despite his failings.

Jim knows he should be upset and indignant the way Sebastian feels, but although he feels shock, Jim cannot quite bring himself to scold Mrs Moran. Perhaps he shall feel angry later, but right now Jim feels touched.

Although, he hasn’t met the inseminated young woman yet.

Jim presses his lips together and takes a rallying breath. “Seb, go shower. Mam, you should have involved us more in the decision making, but we’ll do as you say.”

Sebastian gives Jim an aghast look. “Are you listening? She put a baby, our baby, in someone we don’t even know!”

“How is that any different from your philandering before you settled down?” Mrs Moran asks tartly.

Sebastian glares at her.

Jim sighs. “Seb, the sooner we’re ready the swifter we can assess what the potential damage is. Alright?”

The blond looks disgruntled.

“Maybe we’ll like her,” Jim prompts.

Sebastian curls his lip sourly but slinks through to the bathroom.

Mrs Moran gives Jim a look. The poor boy looks tired in his dishevelled bed hair and too large pyjamas. The light glistens on the fabric and bounces over his stubble as he breathes.

“I’ll wait for you downstairs, darling,” Mrs Moran announces. “Close your eyes for a bit; Sebastian can surely waken you.”

Jim blinks and gives her a wry look as he smooths his slightly thinning hair. “Are you saying I need more beauty sleep?”

“I am saying you need rest, child,” Mrs Moran states. She swoops over to kiss his rough cheek then glides out of the room.

Jim sighs and flops back onto Sebastian’s pillow.

Sebastian does not immediately wake Jim after striding back into the room in shower flushed skin. The big man’s face softens as he watches the small brunet sleep.

“I bloody love you, you tiny bastard,” Sebastian mutters ruefully. He lets Jim sleep on whilst towelling himself dry, then pads over gently and puts a hand on his brat’s shoulder.

Jim does not immediately wake but mumbles something which sounds affectionate. Sebastian rouses him gently. “Up you get, clever clogs. Shower’s free.”

Jim’s brain is too sleep-fogged to notice the way Sebastian looks at him, but he feels the way his husband holds him. Sebastian’s large hand remains on Jim as the brunet pulls himself, swaying, to his feet.

“Careful, sleepyhead,” the big man cautions.

“Yes, love,” Jim yawns, stumbling towards the en suite. Sebastian watches him go, feeling very much conflicted by the way light swishes over the material covering Jim’s perfect little arse.

Jim returns much more alert after allowing a jet of cold water to smack him in the face for several minutes. He glances critically at Sebastian’s intended outfit choice and begins to correct it out of habit.

He stops as Sebastian purses his lips.

“Sorry,” Jim says. “I only meant that shirt is tighter in the sleeves: the other one will hurt less to put on.”

Sebastian nods carefully. “I’m not mad; I’m just getting used to you being home,” he says uncomfortably.

Jim pauses and crosses the room to stand before Sebastian. “I’m back for good.”

“I hope so,” the blond says quietly. He looks away as Jim reaches out to squeeze his wrist, but gives a small smile at the touch. Jim returns to picking out clothing of his own which won’t hang off his thin frame.

They eat together awkwardly. Sebastian creates an air of evident dissatisfaction which he directs at his mother; she disregards it.

Jim bows his head over his breakfast and hopes they won’t shout at each other.

They manage not to, but the tension carries over into the car. Mrs Moran is nonchalant about it: when is Sebastian ever not sulking about her parenting after all? Sebastian is irked by her indifference but feels a little wounded by Jim’s calm. 

Jim rubs the scar on the back of his skull absently. He’s used to being mistreated, Sebastian supposes. That does not make the blond feel better, but he tries not to scowl in Jim’s direction thereafter.

Mrs Moran allows her driver to help her out of the car then calls to the pair, like _children_ , to follow. Sebastian grits his teeth but Jim just goes with the flow. Sebastian marvels how irrational, anxious, volatile, feral, little Jim can accommodate his mother’s whims so easily.

There was a time when Sebastian would have felt comfortable teasing Jim. _Mummy issues_. Sebastian does not feel so comfortable with Jim now.

Mrs Moran leads them inside and Sebastian realises with a start that he probably ought try to speed up the return of that comfortable feeling. Someone has been _inseminated_. Someone is pregnant with their child.

Jim looks back at Sebastian and the blond cannot help but take the slight Irishman’s hand. This moment suddenly seems intensely _huge_ and Sebastian’s going to need to be able to trust Jim if they’re going to get through this.

If that’s even possible.

Jim hesitates to follow Mrs Moran through the next doorway. He holds Sebastian tightly and takes a deep breath.

Sebastian squeezes his hand back. “I’m here,” the blond whispers.

Jim turns his head and looks grateful.

“Boys, stop your dawdling,” Mrs Moran calls.

The couple exchange an uncertain glance then straighten their backs and follow her voice.

They hear the young woman with her before they see her. Sebastian startles at the Irish accent. Jim gives him a bewildered look. ‘Derry?’ he mouths.

Sebastian shrugs and pulls Jim into the room.

Mrs Moran turns and beams at them smugly. The petite woman beside her need say nothing to explain Mrs Moran’s look of triumph.

Jim and Sebastian stare at the young Derry woman, then each other. Jim is visibly stunned; Sebastian feels a little breathless.

Their surrogate regards them with intelligent eyes. Her eyes are dark, her forehead wide and expressive. She is small and slight, with boyish hips, pale skin and black hair.

She is blatantly supposed to look like Jim.

“Thin hips, I know, but it’ll be a C-section,” the dark-haired young woman offers.

Sebastian is lost for words. He dips and kisses Jim’s scalp absently.

Jim does not notice until he feels Sebastian’s soothing touch that the inseminated woman’s likeness to him gave him a thrill of fear. Sebastian’s reassurance reminds Jim just how well the bigger man knows him and the brunet feels a surge of love.

“I couldn’t find a nice Churchtown girl with these looks but she’ll certainly do,” Mrs Moran states casually.

Churchtown is the nearest remotely affluent area to the cesspool Jim is from. He feels lightheaded but Sebastian does not let him go.

The girl looks so _nonplussed_.

“Aren’t you going to tell us her _name_?” Sebastian asks pointedly.


	12. Obliterate

Jim's bony knees are drawn up against his ribs as he malingers frowningly on the couch Sebastian has mistreated. The young Irishwoman his mother in law introduced them to plays on his mind.

She could be carrying his child as easily as Sebastian's own, but Jim cannot help but feel the child will be Sebastian's. Jim has never been good at sports and Sebastian has always been so much fitter, stronger, bigger, even now. It seems natural that evolution would take Sebastian's seed. And besides, the Derry woman -for Jim is struggling to think of her by name- is so like Jim that having a child with her might almost be like having a child with Richard. That much concentrated Jim-ness would be unnatural, explosive.

The thought of Sebastian impregnating a woman, however indirectly, is beginning to torment Jim a little. He knows the insemination is a scheme by Mrs Moran to strengthen his union with Sebastian and perhaps even encourage him, Jim, to stay, but…

The Derry woman is young, and pretty, and hasn't ever hurt Sebastian. She is evidently Sebastian's type physically, the blond has little preference for gender, and one short conversation with her has proved to Jim that whilst Derry might be no criminal mastermind, she is cleverer than Sebastian and oh, how Jim knows the big man likes a wicked intellect.

Jim feels like the evil twin in an entirely new way. Standing the Derry girl beside him was like standing Dorian before his portrait, and Jim is the grotesque painting in this painful analogy. He is the mad, bad, broken bits this young woman does not have.

This woman carrying Seb's baby.

Jim feels sick.

Sebastian has taken less time to process events and knows were he and Jim feeling closer right now Jim might have made some quip about Sebastian's simplified view of the world and lacking the grasp of complex emotions.

As it is Sebastian has spent minutes watching unhappiness tighten Arty's face as the aged brat evidently has a bout of insecurity and self-loathing. Sebastian reprehensibly soaks in the sight for wicked moments, feeling some sort of vindication for the hurt Jim has caused him with his long absence. 

Feeling guilt and a little irritation at himself for enjoying Jim's suffering (but not too much, because Jim fucking hurt him), Sebastian pushes away from the breakfast bar and sits down beside his brunet.

“Stop it,” Sebastian commands.

Jim looks up at the bigger man quickly and thinks better of denying his actions. The blond would not appreciate the lie.

“It'll be fine,” Jim responds flatly.

“It _will_ be fine,” Sebastian growls. He bumps the smaller man with his shoulder. “I'm not going to run off with some pregnant child my mother obtained from nowhere.”

“Ireland isn't nowhere,” Jim mumbles.

“And I'm loyal to you above all else, so stop worrying about this girl,” Sebastian counters.

Jim chews his lip. “She'd be a cleaner option; less baggage-”

“Because carrying a baby for money is the sort of job you get if you don't have baggage?” Sebastian sneers. “Besides, I don't want an _easy, clean little life_. I want you. I want you and all the crazy, messy chaos of _us_.”

The way Jim's shoulders loosen suggests he is somewhat mollified by Sebastian's assertion. Yet his dark eyes remain unhappy. “Maybe you _should_ choose her,” the brunet whispers. “She might be better for you. And I'm sure you'd like her.”

“Fuck off,” Sebastian snaps. “I'd take a bullet for you. Who is she? The mother of our jellybean? You are more to me than she could ever be.”

“'Our jellybean',” Jim repeats in an odd voice.

Sebastian's anger abates a little. He swallows and says gruffly, “Yeah, well that's what it is now, isn't it? About the size of a jellybean? And I'm only interested in it because it's _ours_.”

Jim's forehead wrinkles but it is a different sort of consternation than before. “We have a jellybean,” he mutters.

Sebastian pokes his partner's thin ribs gently. “I thought I was the slow one?”

Jim swats the big man's shoulder absently. Sebastian catches Jim's small wrist and the brunet looks up into serious blue eyes.

“ _You_ are my family,” Sebastian declares. “ _You_ are my priority. If you don't want this-”

“No child of ours is growing up unloved,” Jim states quickly.

Sebastian tugs Jim's slim wrist until the brunet finds himself against the big man's chest. “So you want this? You want to have a baby with me?”

“The baby already exists,” Jim mutters into Sebastian's clavicle. His breath on the big man's skin stirs something within Sebastian.

“Yes, but you still get a choice. There _are_ other options. You get to decide whether-”

“I want this baby with you,” Jim blurts. He looks surprised at himself.

Sebastian chuckles. “You're supposed to be the rational one. You're not even going to draw up a pros and cons list?”

“You're my husband,” Jim says shakily. “I want your baby. It's part of _you_.”

“It's _our_ baby and I want it to bring more of your mess and insanity into our lives,” Sebastian responds. “I want it to be little, and darkhaired, with a cute nose, and correcting my pronunciation when you make me read massive science textbooks to it. And the kid holding up a magnifying glass so I can read all the corrections you've scribbled in the margins.”

Jim chuckles softly. Sebastian looks at him, smiles, and curls his bandaged arms warmly around Jim’s slim frame. “What?” the blond purrs softly, looking amused. “You like the sound of that?”

“Why aren’t you talking me out of this?” Jim asks softly.

Sebastian’s gaze flickers. “I’ve been without you for too long. I want as much of you as I can get. I… I _want_ a family with you.”

“You are my family,” Jim mutters fiercely, eyes downcast guiltily.

Sebastian looks odd. “Don’t you forget it,” he growls before dipping his head down to claim Jim’s chapped lips in a possessive kiss. Jim flinches in surprise but swiftly pulls Sebastian down by the neck, dragging the bigger man closer still.

“Love you,” Jim gasps breathily against Sebastian’s golden stubble.

“Yeah. I know you do,” Sebastian says with something like his old confidence.

Jim grins softly. He digs his short nails into Seb’s shoulders encouragingly.

Sebastian moves to place kisses along Jim’s jaw, ear and neck. “Feeling quite fond of you. All this stuff’s doing things to my head.”

Jim squirms and wraps his fingers in Sebastian’s loose clothing. “I can tell,” he pants. “What’s your point?”

Sebastian gives a guilty, dirty little laugh and bucks his hips gently. “This is my point. Do you want to..?”

Jim stills, expression torn. “I thought you didn’t..?”

Sebastian flushes a bit. “We’re having a _baby_. I want to feel _closer_ to you…”

Jim wants to take his clothes off instantly in answer to that, but holds off. “are… Are you sure?”

Sebastian lowers his gaze for a moment and focuses on taking a deep breath. He ignores the sick feeling in his gut and reluctantly considers the desperate way his body seems to crave intimacy with Jim. “I want us to be okay,” Sebastian says thickly.

Jim reaches around for Sebastian's hands and squeezes the big man's scarred knuckles. “Me too, but we don't have to rush...” The brunet breaks off and shrugs awkwardly, arousal clear on his face. “I'll wait for you. I can wait. If you're not ready I mean. You waited long enough for me. I...”

“Stop talking,” Sebastian says. “Please.” He meets Jim's wavering gaze. “I miss you. _I've REALLY missed you_. And I just… We're going to have a baby. I want to feel close to you.”

Jim swallows and kisses one of Seb's huge hands. The skin's a lot rougher and more neglected than it used to be. Jim sighs, “There's things we can do to be close that don't involve sex, Seb...”

Sebastian pulls back a touch. “You… You still want me, right?” he asks bleakly.

Jim leans closer instantly. “Of course I _want_ you!”

Sebastian looks unusually insecure. “Then why-?”

“Sebby, I just don't want to rush you. I've put you through hell,” Jim apologises.

The big blond juts out his lower jaw. “But you're… You're not going to keep doing that, are you? You're… you're staying now.”

“Tiger...” Jim says sadly. He forcefully takes Sebastian's face in his and stares intently at the taller man. “Seb, darling, I am _never_ going anywhere without you _ever again_ if I can help it.”

“Promise?” Sebastian mutters. He feels a bit stupid for asking but he feels more desperate for the reassurance.

“Promise.” Jim pecks Sebastian's temple. “I'm going to get you your medicine and then I'm taking you upstairs, okay? I'm going to give you all the attention you need.”

Sebastian glances at the clock and realises the action is something he stopped doing when Jim was gone. Time did not feel real without him.

Jim rises from the couch slowly, petting Sebastian's face in tender reassurance before stepping over to the kitchen area. The brunet fills a glass with water and carries over Seb's painkillers.

Sebastian revels at the oddly nostalgic feeling of having Jim care for him. The smaller man watches him intently and Sebastian can feel the care in the attention. The blond also expects an ulterior motive: this interlude is a distraction, surely.

“Please,” Sebastian says. He is uncertain exactly what he is asking.

Jim seems to understand regardless, unsurprisingly. He steps forward to move the glass away then leads Sebastian by the hand.

“We don't have to do anything you're not ready for,” Jim says, “but I am taking you to bed and I am going to hold you. You deserve my attention, okay?”

Sebastian feels stupid, but Jim has pinpointed his vulnerability. The big blond nods and allows himself to be guided upstairs.

Jim manoeuvres Sebastian onto the bed and slowly climbs alongside him as unthreateningly as he can. Sebastian puts an awkward hand upon Jim's frame, his arm bent at an uncomfortable angle to keep pressure off of his torn forearm.

“Do you want to snuggle?” Jim asks kindly.

Sebastian shakes his head. “I want...” He sighs, feeling weak, and meets his husband's eyes reluctantly. “I want us to fuck.”

Jim nods slowly. “Do you want me to get a belt?”

Sebastian swallows. He shakes his head. “I don't want… I'm not ready to… No angry sex today, please. I'm… I know I'm mad at you, but I'm not ready to… I'm not ready for that.”

“You don't want to punish me?” Jim asks dubiously.

Sebastian picks at his bandages uneasily. “I do. I'm… I'm so, so mad at you. But I… I've missed you, you cunt. I want… I want to be _close_ to you.”

Jim runs a hand gently over Sebastian's deflated chest. “If… If you want to take me slowly this time, that's fine. I won't… I won't presume it means we're okay.”

“I want us to be okay.” Sebastian chews his lip before meeting Jim's gaze again. “And I also… I want you to take me. Please. Jim.”

Jim sits back. “Do you trust me?” he asks frankly.

Sebastian shrugs. “Mostly,” he says. “I want to. I miss you.”

Jim kisses him. “I missed you too. I will, if you're sure you want me to.”

Seb swallows and looks at his knuckles. “I want you to put me on my back and obliterate any thoughts I have about anything else. I want to feel like yours again for a bit.”

Jim bravely takes Sebastian's chin. “Tiger. You're mine forever if you want to be. I'm not going anywhere.”

Sebastian looks surprisingly close to tears. He kisses Jim's fingers and looks away. “Just… Just lie to me and tell me everything's going to be okay, please? Make me feel okay, just for a little while?”

Jim's heart twists. “Look at me,” he commands ferociously.

Sebastian obeys in startled silence.

“Me and you are going to be _just fine_ ,” Jim asserts. “We're going to get past all of this… _nightmare_ , because we love each other, and we're married - _whether you're wearing your ring or not_ \- and because we are _devoted_ to each other.”

Sebastian gives a small, unconvinced nod. Jim continues, “We have a jellybean on the way, and we're going to spend the time between then and now working on being a functional couple again. You are _NEVER_ going to be alone again, Seb. I promise. I'm so sorry for everything and you're going to be okay. We're going to be okay.”

Sebastian nods again shakily. 

Jim pats the big man's thigh gently. “Get undressed. I'm going to make love to you. It's been far too long.”

“Thanks for coming home,” Sebastian whispers. Jim covers his lips in a loving kiss.


	13. Paternity Leave

Sebastian stretches out and regards his surroundings with a soft bewilderment as his sleepy brain tries to remind him that he got laid last night for the first time in a long, long, long time.

Jim gives him a gentle, slightly worried smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Claimed,” Sebastian says quietly. “Good.”

“You're alright?” Jim presses.

The blond nods slowly. “There will be time for angry sex later. In our future.” Sebastian looks playful. “Before the night feeds start.”

Jim rolls his eyes although he feels a shiver of excited foreboding. “I meant are you sore?”

“Mostly just aching muscles,” Sebastian says. Dryly he admits, “I haven't had as much exercise in a while.”

Jim snort. “Yeah, well, evidently.”

His big blond gives him a glower in response but there is no malice in it.

“Anyway,” Jim says, “I was waking you to get you to have this.”

Sebastian sits up straighter and observes the bowl Jim has placed beside him on the bedside table. The blond had disregarded it as a cereal bowl he had left out, but it's not.

Jim has cut up watermelon into small pieces. The length of steel protruding from the bowl is a dessert fork, not a spoon.

Watermelon was one of the first things Sebastian managed to persuade Jim to eat after the darkhaired teen had been repeatedly stabbed all those years ago.

“If you eat I can give you your pain pills,” Jim says with a neutral evenness to his voice that tells Sebastian the former whore absolutely does remember the connection.

Sebastian nods quietly, knowing better than to say anything, but he lets a telling look light his eyes briefly. Jim looks away and fidgets with the medication packaging.

“Eat,” the Irishman scolds.

Sebastian pulls the bowl to his chest and picks up the fork. “Yes, Boss.”

Jim's fussing fingers freeze and instantly desist rustling the blister pack's broken foil. _That_ nickname had made a return last night.

During their intimate moments.

Jim climbs back onto the bed and slips his head under the cool bowl to rest against Sebastian's hip. The brunet is not heavy and the bigger man enjoys the slight, warm weight. Jim does not move away when Sebastian finishes eating the fruit, merely holding up the tablets and listening to Sebastian's chest as water sloshes audibly down the big man's throat.

Sebastian puts the glass aside and drapes an arm gingerly over his husband. “You're being rather clingy,” the blond mentions carefully.

Jim half raises his head. “So were you last night,” he mumbles defensively.

Sebastian shrugs. “I've got you back from the dead. And we're expecting a baby.”

Jim mimics Sebastian's gesture. “I'm back home with my husband, and we're expecting a baby,” the Irishman counters.

Sebastian runs a tender hand over Jim's face and toys with what's left of the aging brat's messy hair. “I like it,” the big man comments.

Jim hugs Sebastian's bare thigh shyly. “I love you.”

Sebastian's gaze flickers. The phrase still makes him feel uneasy, nervous after their long separation, but he gives the small man a kiss. “I love you too, brat.”

Jim looks up and grins. “Are you still going to call me that when the jellybean's here?”

“The jellybean's going to be well-behaved,” Sebastian smirks. “It's only going to be _half_ as naughty as its Daddy.”

Jim snorts and rolls his eyes. “You want to ask your Mam if you're the good one? Because I think she might correct you.”

“You want to go for your shower?” Sebastian warns, “because I _thought_ you were enjoying snuggling in.”

Jim giggles and clings harder to Sebastian. “Okay, okay, I'll be good.”

The big blond wriggles further down the bed and pulls Jim against his chest. “Sooner my arms heal the sooner we can spoon comfortably,” Sebastian mutters.

Jim grins. “Remind me who's clingy?”

“Shut up and let me sleep,” Sebastian counters. “Some of us are old and need time to recover.”

“You need me in your arms to sleep, do you?” Jim teases. He makes no effort to move away.

“Damn right I do,” Sebastian retorts, squeezing Jim tighter although his eyes are already closed. “Wake me when I need my next dose.”

Jim kisses the big man's chest. “Sure, Tiger.”

Seb smiles and soon falls back asleep. Jim curls up against the bigger man contentedly.

Eventually Sebastian shifts and Jim looks at him attentively. “Tiger? It's not time for your medicine; you can still sleep.”

“Just need to pee,” the blond explains. He is uncertain how to process how relaxed he feels back with Jim again.

“Alright, darling,” Jim responds, unaware of Seb's confusion. He gives the bigger man a kiss before allowing Sebastian to wriggle out from underneath him.

Jim waits until Sebastian pushes the bathroom door half-heartedly closed before the brunet leans across the bed to reach for his phone. Jim stabs in a 'C' and scrolls down his contacts list.

' _Have a proposition for you,_ ' Jim types.

The Crocodile's response is prompt. ' _Propositions from dead men do draw an old woman's attention, Lazarus._ '

' _I was thinking retirement must be far too boring for a sharp mind such as yours_ ,' Jim continues.

' _Goodness, your Mummy must have peppered your bottom much more thoroughly than she alluded to me. Are you grounded, little man?_ '

Jim flushes blotchily, a sudden knot twisting in his stomach. Mrs Moran had suggested she knew his previous employer, but had _not_ suggested she knew her well enough to discuss Jim's recent trip over his Mammy's knees. 

Jim is quite lost for words for a moment. He stares at his now dark phone screen with a soft frown and imagines Mrs Moran gossiping with The Crocodile over high tea about him. 

She was probably complaining about his stupidity. Jim's tummy flips some more and he tries not to think about Mrs Moran possibly venting about giving him a 'good talking to' and a sore bottom. If he thinks too hard about it he might have to examine why instead of mere embarrassment Jim also feels oddly pleased and validated. 

Mam was talking about him. She was thinking about him when he wasn't there. It feels good, despite the humiliating circumstances. 

Jim wishes the woman had reason to be proud of him. 

_'I'm not grounded_ ,' Jim messages weakly. 

_'Is your proposition going to get you a paddling from your Mummy's hairbrush?_ ' 

Jim squirms and is glad he can hear Sebastian brushing his teeth, a sign the big man is occupied and won't immediately return to question the blush staining Jim's cheeks still. 

' _I'm a grown man_ ,' the brunet types back a little petulantly, _'and I'm going to want some paternity leave. Can you step in to help manage some things or not?_ ' 

_'Just because congratulations are in order doesn't mean I won't punish that poor attitude of yours, little man,'_ The Crocodile warns. 

Jim's ears are still red when Sebastian returns. The blond eyes Jim dubiously. “What have you been upto?” 

Jim texts back a response quietly before sheepishly rising his gaze to Sebastian. “Work stuff.” 

Sebastian's chiselled jaw tenses. “Work can make you blush that colour, can it?” 

Jim freezes. “Sebby...” he sighs. 

“Don't 'Sebby' me,” replies Sebastian sounding more hurt than angered. “You _said_ you'd be honest with me.” 

Jim strides over to Sebastian and holds out his phone, the screen lit with his most recent conversation. “And you've got nothing to be worried about, Sebastian. I was talking to our former employer and discovered she gets on well enough with our mother to discuss… well, you can read it,” Jim trails off in evident embarrassment. 

Sebastian frowns and takes Jim's phone. Broad shoulders relax as Seb reads through the exchange. “Oh,” he says. 

Jim swallows. “Yes, so that just happened.” 

Sebastian puts an arm around Jim. “Hey, at least you still look young. I'm in my _forties_ and I'm still getting it when I upset Mum.” 

__“Because she loves you,” Jim mumbles._ _

__“And because she's _mental_ ,” Sebastian pouts. He uses his free hand to smooth Jim's dark hair. “You know she loves you too, yeah?”_ _

__Jim nods. “I like that she… you know, feels like she can, like she's _my_ mam, it's just… S'a bit embarrassing that she talks about it to The bloody _Crocodile_ , you know?”_ _

__Sebastian chuckles softly and kisses the top of Jim's warm scalp. “Least it wasn't a taxi driver, eh?”_ _

__Jim snorts despite himself and gives Seb's big chest a shove. “Prick.”_ _

__“Mm, yours,” Sebastian says calmly. “So… Paternity leave?”_ _

__Jim dips his eyes for a moment. “Well, I'm going to be busy, amn't I? We both are.”_ _

__“Quite a lot of strings to give to someone else,” Sebastian muses._ _

__“You managed,” Jim says, “and she's-”_ _

__“Much cleverer than me?” Sebastian says archly._ _

__“Not grieving me,” Jim says carefully._ _

__“I didn't manage very well,” Sebastian reminds him._ _

__“You managed spectacularly, considering the state of you,” Jim points out._ _

__“Mm, well here's hoping I take to parenthood better,” Sebastian sighs._ _

__Jim snickers. “You don't think you got in enough practise with me?”_ _

__Sebastian cannot help but laugh. “Oh God, you could be such a brat. Your teenaged tantrums were truly something, sweetheart.”_ _

__Jim leans up on his tiptoes and pulls Sebastian down by the neck. He kisses the tiny scar on the blond's forehead. “You were amazing when I almost blew your brains out for letting me kiss you. No kid's going to be able to get the best of you.”_ _

__Sebastian chuckles softly then looks thoughtful. “Jim? I don't think I want to smack our kid. It'd be weird because I smack _you_. And whenever you smack _me_ it… you know, it leads to the bedroom.”_ _

__“I smack you for the fun of it,” Jim agrees, momentarily forgetting it has been years since he was so comfortable with his husband's body. “I don't want to be like that as a parent. My dad...”_ _

__“Yeah, I don't want to be _anything_ like mine either,” says Sebastian._ _

__Jim nods. He is quiet for a moment. “Tiger?”_ _

__Sebastian looks down. “Yeah, Kitten?”_ _

__Jim flushes even harder at the much-missed use of his pet name. “Um, for the record, Seb… I _like_ it when you spank me.”_ _

__Sebastian chuckles and takes Jim's wrist almost shyly. “I'm not ready to properly _punish_ you, but if you want me to blush those cheeks, mo chroí, I can do that...”_ _

__Jim squirms and presses closer into Sebastian's chest, his consent brushing against the bigger man's body. “Yes please,” the brunet mumbles._ _

__Sebastian gently pulls the smaller man back towards the bed and sits down, placing the phone on the floor. Jim stares at the scarred 'J' peeking out from beneath the soft, golden leg hair of Sebastian's bare thigh._ _

__The big man grasps both of Jim's bony wrists. “I'll give you the sore bottom you asked for on one condition,” Sebastian states._ _

__Jim wonders how he can maintain his arousal when his face feels so hot. “Wh- What's your terms?”_ _

__Sebastian trails his fingers teasingly over Jim's naked bum. “Once I've got this little arse hot and pink and _sore_ , sweetheart, I'm going to pin you down, spread these cheeks, and make you mine again. Seem fair?”_ _

__“Christ, I've missed you,” Jim blurts as he dives forwards to take a kiss._ _


	14. Would You Wear It?

Jim is curled tightly around Sebastian's chest, one leg hooked around the bigger man's middle and the other twined with Sebastian's nearest leg. Jim's thin, little fingers have a death grip on the pieces of metal at the end of Sebastian's chain. 

Part of Sebastian feels weak for succumbing to his feelings for the exasperating little Irishman but he also has no regrets about their lovemaking.

He's missed Jim. He loves Jim. It almost feels that simple.

Sebastian tightens the arm slung carefully across Jim's shoulder's. The small man's body is all angles and dips. Jim's shoulderblades protrude sharply and his spine is a path of round nubs which in the morning light cast Stegosaurus shadows down his lower back.

Jim's current physical frailty cements in Sebastian's mind the fact that Jim did not disappear out of mere caprice and did not revel in their time apart. Sebastian's own body had sickened and wasted away over the hard years as though echoing the mere bones he thought Jim must surely be after that hellish stunt with the Beretta.

Sebastian sighs and mouths Jim's ear. “It's time we ate, Kitten. You need fattened up.”

The slight man stirs with a small frown and clenches Sebastian's wedding ring tighter. “I'll bring it to you,” Jim yawns. “You rest.”

“I can manage,” Sebastian responds. He kisses Jim's forehead and eases out from beneath the man.

Jim tugs Sebastian's jewellery lightly. “Lie down. You're still supposed to be recovering. I'll get you your breakfast and your tablets.”

Sebastian gives a soft smile and tries to leer as he reaches out to pat Jim's bare bottom. “Trust me, pet, I'm going to be offended if you can stand after what I did to you last night.”

Jim blushes a little and grins. “I've missed you,” he cannot help but say.

“I've missed you too,” Sebastian replies honestly. He pries Jim's grip from his chain and blows a casual kiss before lumbering downstairs. 

'Tiger' is left imprinted in the skin of Jim's palm. The brunet stares at the writing before giving the word a kiss and lying back down. He closes his eyes and inhales the scent of Sebastian's pillow.

Sebastian rubs his bandages as he heads downstairs and into the kitchen area. His arms ache heavily and there is now a frustrating prickle at the edges of his wounds where the scabs are oldest. The deepest gouges are still weeping sores in the middle and have leaked a little through the gauze.

The blond reluctantly acknowledges the bandages will need changed today. He hates getting the wounds wet: the weak tan-red scabs moisten to disgusting blobs of mush which look eager to be wiped away and sting like hell if he tries to.

Food first though. He bloody needs those painkillers.

Sebastian moves around the kitchen feeling blessed despite the pain. Padding around making breakfast is a familiar dance of opening each cupboard and drawer in a particular order which he finds soothing to his soul. The steady repetition of domesticity reinforces the fact that Arty is _home_ and things are approaching something which might one day again feel normal.

Sebastian fills a tray with his pills and the breakfast things. He carries it upstairs and gives a warm, shy smile to Jim. Considering the way Sebastian handled the smaller man last night, his smile is surprisingly coy.

Jim understands Sebastian's wariness. “I'm not going to take it for granted that everything's okay just because you're touching me now,” the brunet says softly.

“I did more than touch you last night,” Sebastian says wryly as he places down the tray.

Jim grins, embarrassed and pleased. He does not look his age at all with that expression. Sebastian is vividly reminded of the bratty street urchin Jim once was.

The Irishman blinks at Sebastian's prolonged gaze. “What?” Jim asks.

“Just love you, is all,” Sebastian answers. He flops down on the bed and pulls crockery from the tray to pass to Jim. “Now let's eat.”

Jim swings a leg over Sebastian's and smiles as he accepts the food. “Thank you.”

Sebastian gives him a sidelong smirk. “You using your manners? _You_?”

Jim chuckles and nudges the bigger man gently with a bony shoulder. “I'm a grown up now.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “You looked like a grown up with my red hand prints all over your little arse last night.”

Jim pouts. “My _fine_ arse you mean.”

Sebastian grins and pushes Jim's breakfast closer to the Irishman's clever mouth. “It means it needs fattening up like the rest of you, now _eat_.”

Jim takes a bite and maintains pointed eye contact as he chews. Swallowing, he comments, “I'm not the only one who got skinny. You're on steak and chicken and eggs and dairy until I say otherwise.”

Sebastian wrinkles his nose in amusement. “Like that's a chore,” he scoffs then tucks into his own breakfast.

Jim smiles and wolfs down the rest of his food before cracking open Sebastian's painkillers. “Maybe not, but speaking of things you don't like: those bandages need changed, darling.”

Sebastian groans. Jim's lips twitch as he gets a sudden glimpse of what the blond must surely have been like as a surly teenager.

“Now, now, Tiger, you don't want a reminder of what _my_ red hand prints feel like across your bum, do you?” the brunet teases.

Sebastian's stomach flutters and he grins, pecking Jim's cheek before diving out of bed. “Have to catch me first!”

Jim lets out a brilliant, clear laugh. “Sebastian Moran don't you make me give you an early bedtime...”

Sebastian smirks. “Can't catch me, old man.”

Jim's eyes sparkle. “Sebby, love, you're going to be sorry you said that...”

Sebastian winks. “Only if you don't catch me.”

Jim puts the breakfast dishes aside and throws a pillow at his lover as a distraction before diving after him.

It doesn't take long before Sebastian is wrestled to the ground but Jim is pretty sure the big man is letting him win. Especially since Jim is being so careful with Seb's injured arms.

All the same, they're both panting pretty heavily. Eyes aglow, they stare at each other and grin raggedly beneath flushed cheeks.

Sebastian bucks his hips lightly and raises his brows. “So, you gonna punish me or what?”

Jim runs his short nails lightly down Seb's naval. The big man shudders. 

“What did you have in mind?” Jim asks.

Sebastian feigns wide-eyed submission. “We-ell I might let you do _anything you want_...”

Jim swallows. “Do you really mean that?”

Sebastian's expression flickers at the seriousness in Jim's tone. “What did you have in mind?” the blond asks with a dry mouth.

Jim swallows and ponders soberly the potential fallout of his suggestion. “Would you… Would you wear your ring for a bit?” he asks nervously.

Sebastian blinks quickly. “I… was more expecting to get a spanking and give a blowjob,” he says shakily.

Jim swallows, wondering whether to retract his words, but Sebastian slowly reaches up for his chain. The big man thumbs away his dog tags and considers.

“I… I'm not ready to put it back on properly,” Sebastian admits, “but… I can… Um, I'm willing to wear it at bedtimes. If… if you'd like?”

Jim feels tears prick his eyes. “If you would like to.”

Sebastian nods tightly, suddenly needing to close shining eyes, and pulls Jim close, ignoring how his damaged arms protest. The big man nods against Jim's neck, hot tears marking the Irishman's skin.

“I love you,” Jim declares.

“I love you too, Jim Moran,” Sebastian whispers. Jim kisses his scalp.

The pair are different with each other for the rest of the day, and when Mrs Moran drops in that afternoon she notices it. She says nothing about the delicate tension in the air and instead offers a pair of tablets without preamble.

“I've synchronised a list of appropriate baby names and pulled up some tabs on respectable name forums,” the woman announces.

The boys take the tablets and drop down on the couch. Sebastian gives Jim a sidelong glance. “My vote is for 'Jellybean'.”

Jim chuckles warmly.


	15. Wetting the Baby's Head

To Sebastian's exasperation his mother has been making constant excuses to let herself into the apartment at Conduit Street. Her obsession with all things baby-related would have one forgiven for thinking the baby was _her's_.

It's bad enough that she fast-forwarded the natural process of Sebastian and Jim deciding they _wanted_ a baby and going through normal -or perhaps slightly criminal- means to achieve such a thing. Sebastian certainly wants a damned sight more control over preparing for the Jellybean.

And the bint can take her bony arse right to hell if she thinks she's riding roughshod over any plans he and Jim determine over how to raise the baby.

Naturally, Jim is not at all sympathetic to Sebastian's disgruntled state. The little Irishman is of course delighted to be in Mrs Moran's company because he's a goddamned mummy's boy and loves the fussing.

Which Sebastian understands. Honestly he does. And he doesn't _really_ object to Jim having such a good time or such a strong relationship with the infuriating woman. Jim is welcome to all the familial bonding he can get, as far as Sebastian is concerned. It makes the overgrown waif happy.

It is however driving Sebastian entirely barmy.

He's been pacing like a wild animal for days, baring his teeth and trying not to snarl above a mutter. The blond is trying his best not to make a scene, but everything about his mother's overbearing nature grinds on his nerves.

It doesn't stop at the baby preparations either. She's so far scolded him for his appearance; demeanour; eating habits; irregularity of painkiller dosage; his 'ridiculous, childish fussing' over changing his bandages; and what feels like a hundred other unfair slights.

She also refuses to acknowledge that Sebastian is a full grown man, damn it. If she touches her handbag pointedly one more time -alluding to the paddle brush within, naturally- he might just commit matricide, and _fuck_ all the promises Sebastian made to Jim about never going to prison again.

It occurs to Sebastian that he's quite reached as far as he dares to his snapping point. He fetches outer wear and snatches up his painkillers from the coffee table his interfering bitch of a mother has covered with new baby paraphernalia.

Jim gives the blond a vaguely concerned look.

“I'm going out,” Sebastian grumbles. He does his best not to snap, but he can hear the shameful tightness in his voice. He clenches his hands upon hearing it.

Jim understands. “Be safe,” he says. ' _I'll text you when your mum's gone,_ ' his eyes say.

Sebastian nods tersely and tries to give his partner a warm look before escaping to the lift. He pointedly ignores what his mother calls after him. 

It occurs to Sebastian once he is on the ground floor that he doesn't actually have any plan beyond getting away from his mother. He sighs and pulls out his phone.

“You still on leave?” he opens without preamble.

Severin chuckles sympathetically. “Mum doing your head in?”

Sebastian grunts in agreement.

“Come over,” Severin says. “I'll get you drunk.”

Sebastian's lips press together. He'd quite heavily lapsed back into alcoholism after Jim's 'death'. Since the brunet's return Sebastian hasn't really touched the stuff.

Severin understands without needing an explanation. “Sociably drunk,” he specifies. “I won't let you get up to any nonsense.”

“With you soon,” Sebastian says, and ends the call.

Severin is straight-backed and smiling empathetically when he opens the door. Sebastian feels a wave of relief. He doesn't have to balance his resentments towards his mother with allowances for Jim's mummy issues here. Severin grew up with their brittle dam. He understands. 

“Breathe,” says Severin.

Sebastian gives a shaky chuckle and does as his twin says. “She's driving me around the bend, Sev.”

Severin steps aside to allow his brother entry. “Of course she is. That's what she does,” he agrees.

Sebastian waits for Severin to close the heavy door behind him then trots alongside the big man into Severin's lounge. There aren't many hallways which can accommodate both Moran brothers walking astride, but Severin is far from poor and he refuses to live in central London.

Severin bypasses his drinks cabinet and steps through the glass double doors bisecting the living space. He pulls two beers from the fridge as Seb follows. Severin gives his twin a small, reassuring twitch of his facial muscles - _no heavy alcohol here, look_ \- and opens the bottles.

Sebastian accepts his gratefully. “I'm sure Jim must think I'm being a drama queen,” he mutters with a frown into the neck of his chilled beer.

Severin clasps him on the arm and does his best not to tense his jaw at how strikingly _noticeable_ it is that Sebastian's weight loss makes them easy to tell apart. There haven't been many times when this has been the case: the time Seb got his facial scars and when they were losing their milk teeth are the only other times that jump to Severin's memory.

“Don't worry about it,” the soldier tells his brother. “He has no idea what she used to be like. She was a terror. And he's her favourite. Can hardly blame him for not seeing her true colours.”

Sebastian sighs and takes a drink. “I don't know if I'm being unfair. Maybe I was just a brat back then and she hasn't mellowed; I've just grown up and she isn't as harsh because she doesn't have to be? I don't know...”

Severin squeezes Sebastian firmly. “Not a chance,” he reassures his brother. “She was a _harpy_ when we were growing up whether we behaved or not. Her claws have dulled in old age, is all.”

As Sebastian chews this over Severin nudges him towards a couch. Sebastian sits and unlaces his boots one-handedly as his brother flops down beside him.

“Do you think it is just old age?” Sebastian asks. “How much do you think the Rawdon thing affected her?”

Severin swigs from his bottle as he considers. At last he says, “I don't know. All that really highlighted for me was how little we knew her.”

“And Rawdon,” adds Sebastian. “I always thought he was so bloody _perfect_.”

“Same,” snorts Severin. He takes another drink and considers his words carefully. “He came by when… When you were in the hospital.”

“ _What_?”

Severin shifts his weight and explains, “You were too out of it on meds at the time but I got to exchange a few words with him. It was… surreal.”

“Is he happy?” Sebastian asks.

Severin grimaces. “Hard to tell with the nick you were in at the time, but… I think he's happy in his life. Made the right choice getting away from Dad and all that. Said he missed you though. Gave me a hug.”

“You coulda told me this before you know,” Sebastian points out mildly.

Severin chortles. “Fuckin' when? Soon as you were discharged your dead wife turns up then all of a sudden you're having a baby. Congratulations again, by the way.”

Sebastian clinks bottles with his twin fondly. “Us Morans, we don't do anything by halves.”

“Except the size of your tiny Irishman. And your _weight_. We're gymming it together whilst I'm on leave. You look _ill_ , bruv.”

Sebastian presses his lips together and holds his bandaged arms up grimly. “No lifting, no punching, no curling, no pushups… nothing. Physio's in a few weeks.”

“I did notice the way you're holding that bottle,” Severin says. “Your poor bloody tendons. You really did a number on them.”

Sebastian flexes his free fingers slowly. “Least I've got movement in them, even if it's not like before.”

“You gonna be able to shoot a gun again?” Severin asks. He's already spoken to the hospital about his brother's future fine motor skills but doctors rarely grasp the extent of Sebastian's tenacious spirit.

“Managed to work my hands well enough to slick my _husband_ so I might be alright,” Sebastian says dryly. More seriously he adds, “Might need to get some of the stiffer triggers customised if not all my strength comes back.”

Severin laughs brightly. “Ah Seb, you just tell your missus you need to borrow his wee arse for _physio_. You'll be able to do the riverdance with your fingers in no time.”

Sebastian grins softly. He says seriously, “Might be pushing it a bit, for now. It's only been a few days since, you know...”

Severin nods wisely. “That's understandable,” he says. “Give yourselves time. You don't have to fix things immediately.”

Sebastian finishes his bottle. “We've got a baby on the way in less than eight months.”

“Most people can't remember anything before they're three: you've got _plenty_ of time to work things out,” Severin reassures.

Sebastian nods then chuckles. “Fuck, I hope it doesn't take three years.”

“Not with those fingers, Mr Lover Lover,” Severin teases.

Sebastian laughs and kicks his brother lightly. “Bugger off.”

Severin rolls his eyes. “Some of us only like buggering girls.”

“ _Some of us_ only like _being_ buggered by girls, is what I heard,” Sebastian smirks.

Severin laughs and hits his twin with a cushion their mother picked out. “Shut it, ya _prick_ ,” Severin orders. His ears are pink.

“What's the most recent one called? Irene? Or is that just the name of the girl wearing it?” Sebastian mocks playfully.

“I'm not drunk enough for this conversation,” Severin mutters and stands. He takes his brother's empty bottle and fetches fresh ones from the kitchen.

“Is it serious?” Sebastian asks.

Severin gives his big brother a look which clearly says, ' _We are not talking about this yet_.' “Not as serious as _having a wee babby_. We should be wetting the baby's head.”

“That accent's fucking racist,” Sebastian points out without much annoyance.

“We hail from Southern Ireland same as your wife: it's not racist,” Severin smirks. His face turns considered. “Not racist like Dad anyhow. Nothing-in-it racist.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Be nice, _kid_.”

“ _My_ missus wouldn't drug us all and kidnap us, is all I'm saying...”

Sebastian scoffs. “I might have been in some state for the past few months but I've head some talk between you and Richard. I'm not putting anything of the sort past your Irene.”

Severin rolls his eyes. He picked the mannerism up from Sebastian. “My missus might be able to give Mum a run for her money one day. You don't want me to tell her to cross you off our Christmas card list.”

Sebastian snickers and hides his lips behind the glass bottleneck. “Exactly, so I'm not the only Moran lad who gets a sore arse.”

Severin shakes his head as he chuffs out a soft laugh. “Fine,” he says as he clinks bottles with his brother, “but at least _my_ wrists aren't too butchered for a good pair of handcuffs.”

Sebastian almost spills his beer he laughs so hard.

It's late when Sebastian lets himself back into home. Mrs Moran is thankfully gone but Jim purses his lips as he takes in Sebastian's inebriated state.

“You're _supposed_ to be on medication,” the brunet chides.

“I am on m-uh, _med_ itation,” Sebastian slurs with a soft frown, “s'why it's hit me so hard. Sev wouldn't let me drink much.”

“Your brother's not supposed to be the sensible one,” Jim mutters. He doesn't mention the dishonourable discharge. “Have you had all your doses?”

“Yeah; he made me count,” Sebastian says. He fishes the crumbled box clumsily from his pocket and shows Jim the broken foil. 

Jim counts the empty spaces and nods. “Alright. A pint of water for you, a pee, and then you're going to bed.”

“I don't have daddy issues,” Sebastian mumbles and fumbles his way towards the sink.

“What are you on about?” Jim humours him.

“Daddy issues.” Sebastian pours a glass of water then looks at Jim. Water drips down his sleeve disregarded. “Sev said I've got daddy issues because I like being bossed about and loved. So I can't tease you about Mum.”

“Your brother's hardly without tastes of his own,” Jim says wryly. “Don't worry about it.”

“Me and Sev are quite similar, I think,” Sebastian muses. He catches Jim's smirk. “Not like that. Like twins: no. But like… as people. Same experiences shaping how we think, you know?”

Jim leans on the breakfast bar. “That's reasonable.”

“Do you think Rawdon likes being bossed about?” Sebastian muses.

“What?”

“Rawdon.” Sebastian peers at his husband. “Did _you_ know he'd come to the hospital to see me?”

“You told me you'd dreamed about him. You were a bit confused at the time,” Jim answers.

Sebastian rubs his face. “I don't remember,” he admits. “But Sev said he came and it got me thinking about it.”

“Your family love you,” Jim says.

Sebastian considers. “Yes. I'm lucky.”

Jim makes a playful face. “We-ell I did meet Augusta. Maybe a slight exaggeration.”

Sebastian laughs. “I'm glad you don't like her.”

Jim's lips twitch. “Why?” he asks.

“Because she's more like what my parents _wanted_ me to be like. And you like my mum. I'm glad you don't want me to be like what she likes.”

“Seb, your mum likes me and I'm _nothing_ like 'Gus,” Jim points out.

“True,” Sebastian says thoughtfully.

“Tiger.”

“Mm?”

“Finish that glass,” Jim prompts with a smile.

“Yes, Boss,” Sebastian says agreeably. Afterwards he puts down the pint glass and wipes his wet mouth on his sleeve.

Jim tries not to roll his eyes. “Alright, you. Up to bed.”

Sebastian smiles mildly. “Okay, baby daddy.”

Jim snorts and herds the bigger man out of the kitchen.

“You know what Sev said?” Sebastian comments as Jim guides him upstairs. Jim hums at him absently. Seb continues, “He said, ' _Your little scuffle with death was fruitful in disturbing the dead_.' You know, like you and Rawdon?”

“Well take a telling and don't go unsettling the dead again,” Jim says.

Sebastian pauses on the step. “Are you mad at me?” 

Jim sighs. “No, baby.”

Sebastian allows the smaller man to lead him up the remaining stairs. “You know I love you, right?” the blond confirms.

Jim curls a hand around as much of Sebastian's neck as he can reach and puts pressure there. Sebastian obediently bows his head for a kiss. “Of course I know,” Jim says. “I love you too.”

Sebastian smiles and adds a sloppy kiss to Jim's face. “Good.”

Jim pats Sebastian's bottom. “Now do as Daddy says and go get ready for bed. Pee, wash your hands, and brush your teeth with _your_ toothbrush.”

“Said I didn't have daddy issues,” Sebastian mutters but he toddles off to obey.

Jim gets into bed and listens to the familiar, domestic noise of Seb cleaning his teeth. It's peculiar the things one can miss.

Sebastian returns and Jim's head jumps with fondness. “You're mine,” the brunet says abruptly. “Don't forget that. You promised.”

Sebastian is not surprised. “Course I know I'm yours.” He pulls off his clothing and joins Jim on the bed. He kisses the brunet firmly then pulls back to meet dark eyes. “I'm yours no matter what.”

Jim's eyes flit to the hands Sebastian puts at the nape of his own broad neck. “What are you doing?”

Sebastian unfastens the chain of his dog tags and slides his wedding band free. It rings out in the quiet room. “It's bedtime,” Sebastian reminds him.

“Whatever issues you think you've got I love you more than anything,” Jim says firmly.

Sebastian gives a half smile and kisses Jim's cheek before tossing the dog tags aside and pulling the little Irishman down onto the mattress. “I know,” Sebastian says comfortably, “and I don't mind, you know? That you like all this stuff with Mum.”

“I'm going to have a baby with _you_ , Seb, how could I not like it?” Jim murmurs.

Sebastian blinks at him. “Oh,” he says.

“' _Oh_ ',” Jim mocks. “I might not have been the best at showing it, Seb, but you're my world.”

Sebastian pulls one of Jim's legs over himself. “Goodnight.”

Jim squints at him. “What do you mean, 'goodnight'?”

Sebastian smiles and closes his eyes, holding Jim close. “How do you like it, motherfucker?”

Jim snorts. “Still love you, cunt.”

Sebastian continues to smile smugly but plants a kiss serenely on Jim's scalp.


	16. Babymoon

“Sebastian?”

It is the concerned, reedy pitch of Jim's ordinarily melodious voice that draws the blond's attention. Sebastian looks over to where the small Irishman is hunched into the corner of the shabby couch. Jim's lips press together tightly.

Sebastian stands and crosses the short distance to the other side of the couch. He drops down before Jim. “What's wrong, swe- uh… sweetheart?” the blond asks. Sebastian presses his own lips together as he stumbles over the pet name and chooses to use it despite how difficult the word still sometimes feels in his mouth.

Jim looks up quickly then back down at his thin wrists as Sebastian speaks. The brunet seems more stressed by the stutter.

Sebastian rests a large hand softly on Jim's arm and squeezes gently. “Hey. _Sweetheart_. What's on your mind?”

Jim leans in to the contact and shrugs his shoulders tightly. “What if we're awful parents?” he asks.

Sebastian sighs and sits down properly before pulling the smaller man onto his lap. “Why would you think that?”

“I don't know what a good parent is,” Jim points out. “Minus my Gran, who died when I was small, your Mum is the closest I've ever known to one and you grew up hating her.”

Sebastian clenches his jaw for a moment. “She had a lot of things to live up to that aren't relevant to us,” the blond says at last. “We won't have the same pressures. And we know what _bad_ parenting is like. We know what to avoid.”

“Neither of us grew up with parents who got on,” Jim presses warily. “What if..?”

“ _We'll be fine_ ,” Sebastian asserts. “I'm going to be mad at you for a while, resent you even, but I'm still going to love you. We have a loving relationship. Our kid will come in to a _loving relationship_.”

Jim hugs the bigger man tightly in relief but still chews his lip nervously. “What if you never forgive me? What if something else hellish happens? What if… What if we end up _not_ a loving couple?”

Sebastian swallows. “Then we never take it out in the kid and we don't let it poison the atmosphere. We… do whatever's best for the kid. Work out custody. Play nice at Christmas. Get along with each other's new partners if it comes to that. The kid comes first.”

Jim looks momentarily shaken by the possibility of _new partners_ but agrees with a nod against Sebastian's shoulder. Thin fingers hold Seb's upper arms tightly.

Sebastian nuzzles the smaller man. “For the record, Arty, I don't want anyone other than you. Even when you were gone I wasn't interested in anybody but you.”

The blond feels Jim's eyes moisten the fabric of his clothing. Sebastian holds the brunet closer. “Are you okay?”

“It's all so fucked up,” Jim mumbles.

“But we're _going_ to be fine,” Sebastian insists.

“I hope so,” Jim whimpers.

Sebastian sighs and pulls back to see the smaller man better. He lifts Jim's chin. “Love like ours might get all tangled up but I won't ever let it get poisonous. Any problems we ever have we'll work them through.”

“Do you know how much I need you?” Jim whispers.

Sebastian gives a strained, self-deprecating chuckle and raises his bound forearms crookedly. “I need you too. Everyone knows I'm a mess without you.”

Jim swallows and kisses one of Sebastian's hands. “We're not adults, Seb. Not properly. I don't think we can do this.”

“You've ran an international crime syndicate, mo chroí, we can figure out a baby,” Sebastian states.

“Can we?” Jim presses.

Sebastian grips the slender Irishman's chin tenderly and kisses Jim firmly. “I believe in us.”

Jim's lashes flutter. “Just… Just stay with me, yeah?”

Sebastian snorts. “Even if I have to _haunt_ you, Jim, I will _always_ want to be by your side.”

Jim swallows. “What if you die?” he asks in a small voice. He grasps Seb's bandages carefully. “What if _I_..? Will you..?”

“Maybe it won't be so bad if I have a piece of you left,” Sebastian says quietly.

“What's Richard?” Jim mumbles.

Sebastian frowns and kisses Jim's forehead. “That's not the same.”

“Yeah, well, let's not die, eh?” the brunet mutters. “Either of us.”

Sebastian swallows. “Who gets the kid if something happens to us? Richie or Sev?”

Jim's eyes flicker. Sebastian leans back. “Jellybean is _not_ going to Mum.”

“We-ell, you'd better not die then,” Jim replies.

Sebastian glowers at him but curls a hand back around the nape of Jim's neck and pulls the slim man back against his big chest. Jim does not resist but mumbles, “I don't know what normal kids are like.”

“The opposite of Gus',” Sebastian says uncharitably. 

Jim snorts. “Creepy little things.”

Sebastian chuckles warmly against Jim's scalp. “You think you've got the right to call anyone creepy, Mr I-Shot-Myself-In-The-Face-And-Did-You-Miss-Me?”

Jim's eyelashes brush against Sebastian's skin as he blinks in surprise. “We can joke about that now?” he says dubiously.

Sebastian pinches his husband's bottom. “ _I_ can joke about it. _You_ still have a few years of sucking up to do.”

Jim squirms. “Your fingers are so bony now.”

“Whose fault is that?” Sebastian retorts without bite. He clutches Jim possessively. “Just be thankful I can still manipulate my tendons enough to grope you.”

Jim grimaces but snuggles closer. “I'm grateful you're here.”

“Likewise Arty,” Sebastian answers.

Jim blinks placidly. “Am I still grounded?”

Sebastian curls his lip. “Why you asking?”

Jim nuzzles in. “Do you want to go on a babymoon?”

“What the heck is a 'babymoon'?” Sebastian asks with a quizzical expression.

“Like a honeymoon, but celebrating the time together before the baby comes and there's no sleeping through the night,” Jim explains.

“That is the gayest thing I've ever heard,” Sebastian snorts.

“So it's right up your street then,” Jim teases.

Sebastian rolls his eyes.

“So… do you want to?” Jim asks.

Sebastian shifts in his seat. “You know… Just because, uh...”

Jim tugs Sebastian's top. “Hey. We don't have to fuck ourselves silly. I know that just because we've started to… you know, fuck again, it… doesn't mean we have to. You know?”

Sebastian brushes Jim's lips with his own then widens his pale eyes at his own daring. “I know. And I do… I do want to fuck you. You're still you. It's just...”

“It still hurts,” Jim finishes.

“Yeah,” Sebastian agrees.

“I'm sorry,” Jim says.

Sebastian kisses the brunet's temple. “You… You don't need to apologise all the time. You did what you thought was right.”

“Still fucked up monumentally,” Jim mutters.

“Yeah, but spend the rest of your life by my side and I'll forgive you,” Sebastian murmurs.

Jim flashes a soft smile. “Deal.”

Sebastian kisses his cheekbone and brushes dark hair from Jim's high brow. “So where did you picture this little holiday?”

“Anywhere with you,” Jim says.

“Not discovered any romantic little spots whilst you were away?” Sebastian asks.

Jim grimaces. “I was rarely far from you.”

Sebastian tenses for a moment before rolling his eyes. “Not sure I need to hear that.”

“Sorry,” Jim says.

Sebastian plays with his husband's hair. “Don't apologise. We'll make new memories.”

“So I should start researching this babymoon thing?” Jim asks.

“I'll pick somewhere,” Sebastian says. He squeezes Jim's buttock. “But you can help me pack. So you can go get a wooden spoon. Or my belt. Your choice.”

Jim blushes. “You're going to spank me on holiday?”

Sebastian gives him a very wicked look. “Would you rather I bought you a nice, customised paddle and put it directly at the top of your suitcase for customs to see?”

Jim's face heats further. “Don't even joke about that.”

“Scary consulting criminal scared of a little trip over my lap?” Sebastian teases.

Jim rolls his eyes. “I like a trip over your lap. Feels like I'm home. I just don't need people to think I'm the bitch in our relationship.”

Sebastian's lips twitch. “What do you mean _think_?” His blue eyes glitter.

Jim shoves him a little but smiles when Sebastian cackles.


	17. Chores

Jim walks into the hotel suite, does a cursory circuit of the space, then looks back at Sebastian awkwardly. The big blond gives him a crooked, little smile and pulls Jim against his chest.

“Yes; it does feel weird,” Sebastian agrees. He kisses Jim's scalp and continues, “But we'll get used to it. Now go unpack.”

Jim straightens and gives Sebastian a shocked look. “What?”

Sebastian pats the smaller man's bottom. “You heard me. Get on with it.”

Jim approaches their luggage dazedly. “But you always deal with this stuff,” he mumbles.

The blond smirks and holds up his bandaged wrists. “Yes, but I'm an invalid, and _you're_ sucking up to me.”

Jim sniffs sulkily and gracelessly attempts the task. “Yes, but I'm much better at giving blowjobs and buying you things than I am at… chores.”

“You haven't earned the right to offer me a blowie,” Sebastian smirked. “We'll see how I feel about you after your ' _chores_ '.”

Jim chuckles softly. “You're a prick when you're in charge; you know that?”

Sebastian grins at him. “You can _start_ by unpacking the wooden spoon, pet.”

Jim stares at his partner for a moment then curls his lip and bends back over the nearest suitcase's padlock. “Threaten me all you want; I'm not afraid when you're grip's still so frail, _invalid_.”

Sebastian barks out a dry laugh. “Careful, love, or I'll have to show you what uncomfortable things I can do to your bottom with that spoon _without_ giving you a spanking.”

“Bloody sadist,” Jim mutters fondly. He opens the case and rifles through it. His ears turn pink when his fingers close around the spoon and he hands it to his husband gingerly.

Sebastian pulls the brunet to his chest and kisses Jim teasingly. He takes the wooden spoon and taps Jim's bottom with it. “You best get on with your chores, pet,” Sebastian whispers.

Jim swallows and scowls a little to make it less obvious that his Saville Row underpants are becoming a bit uncomfortable at the front. He stomps off lightly to obey.

Sebastian settles in an armchair. “Don't pout, baby. You're old enough to get wrinkles now.”

Jim flashes his husband a fierce look. Sebastian just smiles and turns the spoon over in his large hands as though admiring the wood grain. Jim huffs and sets about hanging up their belongings.

Sebastian watches Jim fondly. Despite the game, the blond feels ill at ease. Being on this little holiday together makes part of Sebastian hungry for Jim to be stripped and slicked and panting on their bed, but… the hurt part of Sebastian cringes at the mere idea.

They've been sleeping with each other for a few days now, but it's still… fresh. The wounds are still raw.

Possibly rawer than the wounds Jim had cleaned for him before they left home. Sebastian toys with the object in his hands uneasily.

Eventually Jim puts their toiletries in the bathroom and looks at his husband expectantly.

Sebastian stands and approaches Jim. He bends and pulls the brunet into a kiss.

Jim pulls back. He shakes his head. “You're really tense,” he whispers.

Sebastian shrugs awkwardly. “Still a bit rusty. We'll get back in sync.”

Jim fixes him with a cutting look. “There's nothing wrong with our synchrony, darling. You're hurting.”

Sebastian swallows. “I did warn you...”

“I'm not blaming you,” Jim says. “Your hurt and reluctance are perfectly valid. What _isn't_ is you pushing for this if you're not ready.”

Sebastian sighs and sits on the bed. “What would you have me do then?” he asks.

Jim sits on his knee carefully. He touches Sebastian's face and says, “Just be honest. We don't have to have sex or play any of our games.” 

“Then what's the point of coming here?” Sebastian sighs.

Jim squeezes his husband's hand. “To spend time with each other. That's all. Anything else is _extra_ not the main course.”

“We could spend time together at home,” says Sebastian. “It's what we have been doing since...”

“Since I came home,” Jim finishes. “And I've enjoyed that, but back home you've got the stress of your mum's babymania. Here it's just us.”

Sebastian's eyes flick to Jim. “But you like fussing with my mum.”

“I do, but you're obviously more important,” Jim says. “You're my _husband_.”

“And you've missed having a family. Mum,” Sebastian says.

Jim blinks. “Nowhere near as much as I've missed _you_ , you bloody idiot,” he sighs.

Sebastian swallows. “Well yeah, obviously...”

“'Obviously',” Jim repeats mimicking the lump in Sebastian's throat. “Bloody _fool_. I love you more than breathing, Sebastian Moran.”

“No death jokes please, Jim Moran,” Sebastian replies.

Jim leans up and kisses his husband thoroughly. The blond relaxes a little into the affectionate contact.

“Feel better?” Jim asks.

“Kind of,” Sebastian mumbles.

Jim sighs and peels himself from his lover. As Sebastian watches warily, Jim hops over to where he had set aside some baby books. He carries one over and lifts it aloft.

“Here,” he says. “Get comfortable.”

Sebastian gives him a dubious look but moves up to the headboard and fixes the pillows. Jim goes to him and hands Sebastian the book before sliding off his suit jacket and climbing up beside Seb.

Sebastian settles his arms around Jim as the brunet takes the book back. Cracking open the book's spine, Jim deftly licks his thumb and flicks to the content page. “Where do you want to start? The beginning, or skip past the pregnancy bit?”

Sebastian rests his head on Jim comfortably. “I don't mind, sweetheart. I just want to be near you.”

Jim twists and flashes his teeth towards his husband in an honest smile. “Exactly, love.”

Sebastian squeezes Jim. “I do love you.”

“I love you too,” Jim says firmly, “and you don't ever have to do anything to maintain or prove that. We're a _couple_. We work _together_.”

“When did you get so wise all of a sudden?” Sebastian asks wryly.

“I've always been smart, thank you,” Jim rebuffs. “And besides, you're the one who taught me about healthy, loving relationships.”

Sebastian feels comfortable enough to kiss Jim's temple and joke, “I really fucked up by not teaching you that faked deaths are poor taste then, hey?”

“You may have overestimated my intellect,” Jim smiles. He turns and kisses the tiny scar on Sebastian's lip. “If I remember correctly though, Tiger, it was _you_ who first encouraged gun play.”

“Give me that spoon,” Sebastian growls, “my urge to hit you has come back.”

Jim laughs. “Sebby, _no_. We're reading...”

“Reading later.” Sebastian takes the book from Jim's fingers and puts it on the night table. Jim meets his eyes and the blond reaches for Jim's belt.

“I was just joking about your grip being weak,” Jim says breathily.

Sebastian kisses him. “We'll see.”

Jim swallows and Sebastian kisses his stomach over the shirt before tugging down Jim's suit trousers.

“Should I be feeling scared or lucky that you changed your mind?,” Jim chuckles as Sebastian pulls him closer by the waistband of his soft boxers.

Sebastian winks and fondles his husband teasingly. “Both.”

“Second most dangerous man in London,” Jim gasps.

Sebastian smacks him playfully. “In. The. _World_.”


	18. Understanding

The days pass and in some ways it almost seems like Sebastian and Jim exist in a bubble. They know they will be parents soon; they read together books on parenthood and Jim relays the least exasperating updates from Mrs Moran to Seb.

Otherwise they exist in nothing but each other. Sebastian takes Jim to bed again and again -sometimes tenderly, sometimes fiercely- and sometimes Sebastian cannot bear anything but to be near Jim in chaste contact.

Jim understands.

He understands when Sebastian approaches him with remarkable gentleness and makes love to Jim with soft kisses and loving words. He understands when Sebastian claims him with passionate kisses and pins him to the mattress. He understands when tears fill the blue eyes he has loved all these years.

It's so much to suddenly have everything when for years there has been so little. Of course Jim understands that. He might not have thought Sebastian dead and lost -at least not until the terrible circumstances which brought them back together- but oh, Jim ached for him in the bleak, lonely years.

A glut of food can be nauseating after having starved.

Jim understands, but he cannot help but note how Sebastian holds back, even in the hours where he holds Jim down and makes him feel claimed.

Sebastian goes through the motions of playing their games, but a light spanking is not a good thrashing, and it's certainly not any of their more dangerous games. Sebastian entirely baulks at the memory of Jim's 'death' and so their usual repertoire of hedonism is quite off of the cards. There will be no breathplay, bloodplay, knives to the throat, or heaven forbid, gunplay.

Jim looks at his lover. “Would it help if you marked me?” he asks. “Claimed my skin as your own?”

Sebastian shakes his head quickly. “I'll let you cut me if you want, but I don't...”

He does not have to finish his sentence. Jim understands.

However, it's something new. Sebastian has allowed the odd pink bottom, some teethmarks on his neck, and twice or thrice has let Jim top, but on the whole he has been resistant to feeling owned or submissive.

Jim understands that too: it makes sense Sebastian would fear giving so much of himself after the hurt he has been through.

Jim wonders whether this new offer -to let Jim cut him, mark his skin- is a good thing. Does it mean Sebastian is starting to relax and trust?

Or does it mean something worse?

Jim doubts Sebastian is ready in any case. He declines affectionately and burrows into the blond's lap. “I just want to show you that I belong to you.”

Sebastian stares at him. “Sweetheart, I know that you do.”

Jim is quiet. Sebastian holds his gaze, frowns, and twists around.

Jim sits up as Sebastian tears a strip from the bedding. “What are you doing?” he asks in a clipped voice that betrays his alarm.

Sebastian gives him a dry look. “Hold out your hand.”

Jim does so. His dark eyes are full of confusion.

Sebastian flashes him a brief smile. “You've heard of tying the knot, haven't you?”

Jim cocks his head to the side and wonders whether he understands this time.

Sebastian pulls his ring on and loosely wraps the ripped bedding over Jim's thin wrist and his own bulky bandages. Jim's pale hands shake a little and he watches ever so closely as Sebastian binds their hands together just as slackly.

“You can bond us tighter than that,” Jim whispers.

Sebastian looks at him. “From what I remember of handfasting it's not the knots that should be tight: it's your grip. You're bound by the promises you make with your words and your hearts and uphold with your actions every day.”

“I've never been to a handfasting,” Jim says quietly. He twines his fingers tightly with Sebastian's and asks, “What do we say?”

“It's been a while, so I might be making it up a little, but it's not as if we'd been regular to a priest or used confirmation names or such like before we got married,” Sebastian admits.

Jim holds fast. “It's about us and how we feel for each other.”

Sebastian nods and kisses their knuckles. “These are the hands that will love you. These are the hands that will hold you and comfort you throughout our years. These are the hands that will support you and protect you. These are the hands that will build our life together.”

Jim crooks a smile. He understands. “These are the hands that will always reach for yours and always find you. These are the hands that will tend your wounds and kill to protect you. These are the hands which will wipe your tears and hold your Jellybean.”

He kisses their clasped hands.

Sebastian kisses Jim's lips at length then removes the shredded fabric without undoing the knots.

He is quiet for a beat. Eventually he says, “A handfasting doesn't have to last forever. If you change your mind… I don't know, something about jumping over a bonfire.”

Jim snorts. “I have spent far too long away from my husband already. You won't get rid of me again.”

Sebastian looks at the brunet. Really looks at him. He takes in Jim's features and every microexpression.

“Do you promise, brat?”

Jim chuckles awkwardly. “I would tie us together every morning if it meant you knew I love you.”

Sebastian smiles with his whole being and pulls Jim against his chest. “As long as you know I love you.”

Not 'as long as you stay'. _As long as you know I love you_.

Jim understand the cost of the words and what Sebastian means. He holds the bigger man tightly and at length.

They may have stayed that way forever had Sebastian's stomach not rumbled its malcontent. Jim reaches over to call for room service without a second thought. For a moment he forgets the instincts borne of being so long in hiding.

Sebastian grumbles softly. “Ignore my gut. I want cuddles.”

Jim's eyes glitter as he regards his spouse. “You'll eat what I tell you when I tell you. I want my big, strong blond back if you're going to cope with night feeds and sleep deprivation and all the rest of it.”

Sebastian regards him suspiciously. “If you make aeroplane noises I'm leaving.”

“Not if you want cuddles you won't,” Jim responds with certainty.

He's right of course. When they finally go back home the brunet makes a point of looking out Tiddles and the stuffed tiger he calls Stupidface and Sebastian insists is called Stripes. He gets them cleaned.

Sebastian finds the raggediest bow he's ever seen twisted around the grey cat's neck. The binding is still knotted.


	19. Plaster

It takes a few weeks, but Sebastian slowly starts to regain some of his earlier weight, and so does Jim. However, whilst Sebastian had usually been the caretaker in their relationship, Jim has found himself slipping into the role almost comfortably. He _likes_ the look on Seb's face when he wakes the blond with food, and it's not as if it's that unusual to spend time tending to Sebastian's injuries.

Jim feels wanted and sometimes even needed when he looks after Sebastian. The blond's acceptance of the care feels like a display of trust when Sebastian has always been so capable. He still is capable now, and by letting Jim fuss over him Jim feels like perhaps he is partly forgiven.

It makes Jim feel indescribably grateful. All he wants in this world is Sebastian's wellbeing and love.

And that of their child now. Jim swallows and considers whether Sebastian's generosity in allowing Jim's assistance has merely been a test of Jim's capacity for nurturing a child.

Although Sebastian has never really been one for tests. He would, however, surreptitiously help Jim develop skills Jim believed himself to lack.

Jim wonders whether Sebastian has outmanoeuvred him again.

Not that Jim minds. He rather likes taking care of Sebastian: it's not an irksome chore to tend for someone he cares for. Providing Jim cares for this child, raising it might be perfectly within his capabilities.

Jim rather thinks he does care for the baby, but it is strange trying to feel emotion for a child growing in a stranger. The feelings Jim experiences are abstracted.

He turns and looks at Sebastian, who is napping on the bed. Poor old thing is struggling to acclimatise to regular food, exercise and sex.

Jim watches the rise and fall of Sebastian's breathing under the puffy duvet and wonders what it would feel like for _Sebastian_ to be carrying this child. Derry's child. 

No.

 _Their_ child.

Christ. Sebastian fat with some wriggling little creature inside of him. A product of _their_ love and an addition to their family. Holy Christ, them, _him_ with a family.

A _baby_.

Of course, Sebastian's in his forties. Even if he was a woman he would probably struggle to conceive or bear a firstborn now. Mum was right to boss them, Sebastian's going to be run ragged chasing a toddler around in a few years. Jim himself is going to be run ragged doing it.

Jim feels his body rocked with an odd shiver. What if _he_ was carrying Seb's child? Jim closes his eyes and feels strangely embarrassed thinking about it. Proof of Seb's love growing inside of him, stretching out Jim's body and being a constant, kicking reminder that Jim is part of a family unit. Never alone.

Jim swallows. His skin prickles as he imagines Seb's _face_ if he delivered the blond's child. Fucking hell, a giant Sebastian baby in Jim's little frame. Jim feels momentarily sorry for Derry.

He blinks. _Giving up Seb's baby_. Jim feels entirely sick at the thought.

Jim climbs onto the bed and curls into Sebastian's hulking, warm form. Sebastian smiles and pulls Jim closer without waking up. Jim huffs a small, pleased laugh and twists to kiss Seb's face. Jim feels oddly comforted even though he's not certain whether he felt upset or just overwhelmed with how much things are going to _change_.

Sebastian must note some tension in Jim's small (but no longer skeletal) frame. The bigger man rouses and shuffles up to lean on an elbow. A disgruntled grimace twists his face and Sebastian quickly shifts his arms to a more comfortable position. 

Jim feels a twinge of guilt. Sebastian had spent quite some time in the hospital in casts and splints getting various bits of surgery on his destroyed tendons before he had been allowed home. When he'd gotten out it had been made clear that whilst yes Sebastian _must_ exercise his hands, he should not expect to manage a keyboard or pen for around eight weeks.

Sebastian's enthusiasm for preparing and indeed pleasuring Jim, in addition to the light spankings that Jim had received with such exuberance during their little holiday, had put them in the rather humiliating position of having to _return_ to the damned hospital. After Sebastian was treated, had reluctantly explained _how_ his injuries had been so thoroughly aggravated, and both he and Jim had suffered the indignity of a _firm_ scolding, Sebastian had been put _back_ into casts.

The pair were then warned in no uncertain terms to curb their enthusiasm for at _least_ eight weeks, if not ten. And any 'heavy activities' (the doctor had made a rather undeniable hand gesture at that point) should really be postponed to the ten to _twelve_ week timescale.

“Don't lean on that,” Jim sighs. It's not even the hundredth time Sebastian's done it since the _new_ surgery and Jim has already learned that Seb's slowly returning bulk is already enough that he cannot physically force the blond to move.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. He's stuck in rigid plaster splints for three to six weeks (“probably six,” the doctor had declared with a glower at them both) and has little patience by now for coddling his ruined arms.

“Why'd you wake me?” the blond asks.

“I didn't,” Jim says.

Sebastian barely winces as he raises a hand to stroke his partner's face. “Just wanted a cuddle?”

Jim looks away in embarrassment, which Sebastian has understood for many years to mean ' _yes_ '.

Sebastian gives the smaller man a kiss. “Just as well,” the blond says. “I was having a pretty weird dream.”

Jim looks at him and curls his fingers around Sebastian's. “What about?”

Sebastian grins in wry embarrassment. “I sold my soul to the devil and eh… He gave me it back. Said he needed a favour.”

Jim gives him a dry look. “This devil, did he have dark hair and my accent?”

“Couldn't have been you, sweetheart; you're going grey,” Sebastian deadpans.

Jim gives his husband a deeply unimpressed look. “Might I remind you that the doctor didn't say anything about _me_ giving _you_ the spanking of your life, darling?”

Sebastian chuckles, although his blue eyes light in interest. “Leave me alone; you know I'm an old man.”

“You're not going to be able to tell the sprog that when it wants to play, so you'd better retire that excuse and find some energy,” Jim scoffed.

Sebastian sits up. “I think it's going to be a girl. A sprog _lette_. Do you?”

Jim curls his lip. “I don't care as long as we don't fuck it up.”

“Sev says Chris is taking bets on it. Jellybean, that is, not us screwing it up,” Sebastian says.

“Christabelle your sister who hasn't even met Derry?” Jim sneers.

“My sister who calls Derry by her actual name,” Sebastian teases.

Jim ignores him. “Did you bet Chris it'll be a girl, or that Jellybean'll come out with a pointy tail?”

“Maybe she'll have horns just like her Daddy,” Sebastian mocks.

Jim considers for a moment. He seems to remember Sebastian once telling him (after playfully stroking the tabletop scar on the back of Jim's skull) that if a bit of bone is touched enough it grows back stronger, and could theoretically develop like a horn or such.

Sebastian blinks and clearly understands what Jim is thinking of.

“Don't. You. _Dare_ ,” Jim warns.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Keep your panties on, Baby Daddy.”

Jim arches a brow. “Do you have to call me that?”

“It's what you are. My baby's Daddy,” Sebastian counters.

“Maybe she'll want to call me something else,” Jim reasons.

“Like what?” Sebastian scoffs. “She is _not_ calling either of us 'father', _ever_ , and 'pops' sounds like you would explode in a microwave so...”

Jim bursts out laughing. “I wouldn't _fit_ in a microwave. I've been eating those _horrible_ protein things you've forced me to.”

“I could chop you up into little pieces,” Sebastian mutters teasingly, nipping Jim's earlobe. “I've definitely not forgiven you for my _Mum_ finding out about my new casts, after all.”

Jim twists his head and kisses him. “You'll be back to full strength in twelve weeks.”

“That's what they told me the _first_ time they put me in casts,” Sebastian says mildly sourly, “and _six months_ for full range of movement.”

“Why are you so grumpy? You'll still have them off in time to hold the baby,” Jim murmurs.

Sebastian's eyes sparkle in a way that sends a jolt to Jim's stomach. “Want to start a bet on whether I can let these heal properly? Because I don't think I'm getting put into plastic splints any time soon...”

Jim wrinkles his nose. “ _You better be_ , because once you get out of plaster and into those you then need to wear the plastic at night for a few weeks. You are not getting out of your fair share of the night feeds, motherfucker.”

Sebastian's lips spread in a silly smile.

Jim frowns in confusion. “What?”

“We're already splitting the duties,” Sebastian grins.

Jim sighs. “Oh shut up. And get out of bed, your mum's making us have dinner with Derry in five hours.”

“You think it's going to take five hours to get me out of bed?” Sebastian queries.

“An hour to get there; four of holding you down by the elbows so you don't destroy your arms further,” Jim answers.

Sebastian smirks. “Why Baby Daddy, did you just proposition me for a good seeing to?”

“Not if you call me that in bed,” Jim grumbles.

Sebastian laughs and pulls the smaller man close unrepentantly.


	20. Family Time

Jim has never quite gotten used to Sebastian's sisters. Despite the longevity of their marriage (and indeed, their relationship) neither Jim nor Sebastian find themselves in the women's company more than twice a year (and most years it is much less).

It would not be false to suppose Augusta is the least liked of Sebastian's siblings. Seb cannot stand the woman's proximity for more than a couple of (strained) hours and Jim cannot blame him. The eldest of the legitimate Moran offspring, Gus in her fifties and carries all her father's worst traits. She is a preening snob with a perpetual air of disdain; a temperament that knows only icy indifference and haughty rage; and a bored sense of elitist self-entitlement that motivates her downright malicious streak.

As children, Gus and Rawdon had been exemplary examples of 'proper' behaviour to which their siblings had been chided to mimic. Gus had not outgrown the belief of her own superiority to her siblings, but she did outgrow her desire to fashion herself after her parents.

This goes a long way towards explaining her divorce, but she is equally, if not more, absent in her role as a parent as Mrs Moran had been in distant years. Gus is, to the untrained eye, exceptionally like her mother: they have the same whiplike build, sharp eyes, rigidly presentable appearance, and expensive taste in everything.

Gus is unalike her mother in that she detests speaking French or any other foreign language, does not have the mental capacity to understand anyone's inner workings, and is genuinely indifferent to the wellbeing of her kin providing it does not impede on her own life.

Despite being tall, slender and blonde enough to have always needed to pencil in her eyebrows, Gus is not in character her mother's daughter. She is her father's, and the cruel smile she has inherited from the man is the least of the problems she has inherited from him.

Jim finds the woman irksome at best, and Sebastian would be hard pressed indeed to find something positive to say about his eldest sister. In the entirely improbable likelihood that Gus offered Sebastian a needed organ the blond would have been unable to avoid expressing strong distaste about having a bond with such a cold, judgemental, classist racist.

Christabelle is an entirely different creature. She rarely visits, but this is because she is 'married' to a demanding career, and she is as warm as Sebastian had often wished his mother to be whilst growing up. By the ordinary person's standards Chris is far from an exceptionally emotive person, but she has always stuck out from the rest of the Morans for being far more so than the others. What Sebastian and Severin have by way of healthy emotional development is largely through Christabelle's deliberate efforts.

Jim likes Chris. She is not overly tactile or gushy, but the tender enthusiasm of her gaze always makes Jim feel welcome, and makes Sebastian feel at home.

Chris is also an unapologetically womanising bachelorette in her rare free time, and both men appreciate having her quash any of Gus' casually homophobic comments.

Chris is in her late forties but despite her gruelling job could easily have passed for the younger sibling of Sebastian and Severin. There is a childish softness to her face still and a healthier plumpness to her build which radiates vitality. Her curvier body makes her hugs particularly comforting, but it is the cheeky glitter of her pleasant features which makes her most attractive. Women cannot not be blamed for falling for Chris in their droves, and Chris cares not a damn for what Gus and their father have to say on the matter.

In the current moment, Gus is making some acerbic comment about how 'lucky' Chris ought count herself that the murky organisation they are all quite certain that Chris works for began to allow in 'her lot' entry in 1993.

“Ninety-one,” Chris responds nonchalantly. It may or may not be accurate as far as the others know, because she has never specified exactly which of the likeliest government organisations she works for. Jim knows, but he keeps it to himself. 

The pretty blonde's gaze remains fixed on her older sister. Chris continues, “And the service has always been positively _riddled_ with us deviants. If it wasn't for the judgement of _your lot_ it wouldn't have become a problem. I'm sure you think the KGB were also being perfectly moral to blackmail such perverts.”

“Language, Christabelle,” Mrs Moran says without ire.

Her daughter looks at her unenthusiastically.

“The Russians might still have some good ideas,” Gus mutters.

Chris shoots her a poisonous look. “Do you have something you want to say to me, Og?”

Mrs Moran rolls her eyes. “Allya, allya, schta tut proiskhodit?”

Chris chuckles but her sister narrows her eyes, not getting the joke.

“Personally I think it makes sense for the gays to work there,” Severin pipes up. “Gets knocked in early enough to be secretive and good at reading signals.”

“If they only had the decency to _keep_ their private lives secret-” Gus begins.

“Said the divorced Catholic,” Chris responds without sympathy.

Gus turns puce. Jim says nothing and instead watches Sebastian, who has been keeping well out of the siblings' bickering all evening. It is rather uncharacteristic of the blond. As patient as Seb is with Jim, it ordinarily takes very little baiting for Sebastian to get drawn into his family's unimportant quarrels.

Sebastian had not seemed to have much problem exchanging witticisms with his family earlier either, which furthers Jim's interest and concern. Mrs Moran had fussed at length about Seb's backstep casts and the blond's siblings had lost no time in teasing Sebastian about that.

There had been some gentle teasing for them both (Sebastian and Jim) for their weight also. Jim is almost back to normal in that regard and Sebastian has certainly lost his gaunt look but it has not stayed the other Morans from piling the couple's plates high with food.

Indeed, the pair had been playfully mocked about their future as well, even Derry joining in on the game. Derry is really beginning to _look_ pregnant.

She has also disappeared off to the restroom yet again, citing the baby's delight at dancing upon her bladder.

Perhaps that is what has Sebastian so distracted. Jim slides up to his husband and slips arms around the bigger man (ignoring the fond teasing from the others this incurs).

“Getting pretty real now, isn't it?” Jim whispers.

Sebastian looks at his brunet and swallows. “So real,” he agrees. A small frown mars the blond's forehead. “The bump's almost as big as she is. Is it wrong that I'm kind of glad it's not you having to carry Jellybean?”

As recently as a month ago Jim would have been made insecure by that statement, but it does not faze him today. “Worried about my figure, darling?”

“Worried about her splitting in half,” Sebastian explains. “I don't want _you_ bursting open.”

Jim curls his lips. “You do know that's not actually how it works, Tiger?”

“I probably couldn't cope with the birth if it was,” Sebastian says wryly. He swallows. “Arty?”

“What, Sebby?” Jim replies softly.

Sebastian hesitates. For such a handsome, well-built man he looks terribly awkward and unsure all of a sudden. “Do… D'you mind if we stay here tonight?” he asks.

Jim feels honest surprise but agrees. Typically _he_ is the one who wants to linger with Sebastian's family. “Are you okay, love?”

“I think so,” Sebastian says. “I'm just… I want to be around everyone tonight. Is that weird?”

“Of course it isn't,” Jim reassures. Sebastian looks unconvinced but grateful nonetheless.

Jim gives his husband a kiss and rubs the bigger man's back soothingly. The brunet looks across the room and makes eyes at Mrs Moran.

The woman approaches intuitively.

“Might we spend the night tonight, please, Mam?” Jim asks. Sebastian keeps tight hold of the little Irishman.

Mrs Moran gives each of them a pat and pecks their cheeks. “Of course, boys. Your family is the best place for you at the moment. You're going to be glad of having us all to babysit soon enough.”

Sebastian gives a crooked smile. “I never pictured you as the babysitting grand-maman type, Mum.”

Mrs Moran shrugs. “I am becoming quite sentimental in my dotage, Sebastian. You shall have to take advantage.”

Sebastian turns as Derry returns from the bathroom. The conversation between his siblings changes to something less risky.

Sebastian hugs Jim to himself and drops his gaze to Derry's stomach. “You might not be as senile as I say,” the blond comments.

Mrs Moran scoffs. “Don't think I won't send you for an early bedtime under my roof, child of mine.”


	21. Stretch Marks

To Jim's amusement Sebastian seems more and more inclined to spend time under Moran Manor's large roof, although the blond only chooses to stay when Lord Moran is elsewhere. The pregnancy hasn't changed Seb _that_ much.

It has changed Derry. Most of her remains rather slim but her stomach has grown to bulging enormity. Her bellybutton is visible through much of her outfits and her graceful, quiet steps have been replaced what can only be accurately described as a waddle.

It unnerves Sebastian somewhat. “I wish she'd gotten fat,” he murmurs to Jim.

The brunet looks at his husband without pursing his lips too tightly in amused judgement. “You're still scared she's going to split open like an overripe fruit.”

“She literally has to walk around with her arms under her belly to take the weight. No matter what they all say that _worries_ me,” Sebastian responds.

“Women _have_ been having babies for quite some time, Tiger. She's perfectly normal,” Jim says.

“What would you know about it?” Sebastian replies without malice. “How many babies have _you_ known?”

Jim rolls his eyes without taking umbrage. “I know that your mother managed to bear several children despite being as skinny as Derry. Pregnant women don't have to swell up everywhere to be healthy.”

Sebastian sighs. “Fine then, Mr. Reasonable, if there's no reason at all to worry _why_ have you got that face on?”

“What face?” Jim asks knowing fine well what his husband is referring to.

Sebastian feigns a constipated grimace that makes Jim laugh and swat the larger man's chest. Seb's bicep was closer but only one of the blond's arms is so far healed well enough to leave its cast and Jim is being careful still. 

“It's nothing important,” Jim says.

“Like stuff it's not,” Sebastian counters. “What's wrong? Have you been having the same 'baby ripping its way out of its mother's womb' dreams that I have? Because those are scary.”

Jim chuckles. “No, Seb. It...” Jim sighs and reluctantly continues, “I'm just being insecure. I know that I'm being illogical. And _unreasonable_. I'm not being fair to you.”

The amusement slides from Sebastian's face. “Arty, you need to tell me now.”

Jim swiftly clutches the larger man as he notice's Seb's suddenly chalky pallor. “Nothing that bad, Sebby, Christ. I...” Jim closes his eyes, fingers still wrapped in Sebastian's short-sleeved shirt, and admits, “I'm uncomfortable that Derry's… Carrying Jellybean, you know?”

Sebastian understands immediately. Jim's been fighting this worry for _months_. Around eight of them in fact.

“Arty, I'm not going to run away with our surrogate.” Sebastian is still pale but he winks at his partner and jokes, “Unless she zips herself into a scruffy little black and white tracksuit of course. Then I'm all hers.”

Jim snorts and indignantly flicks Sebastian in his suprasternal notch. The blond bats him away and rubs the mildly pink dimple of his throat.

“Okay, okay, no tracksuits,” Sebastian scoffs. He pulls Jim into his lap and screws up his face in dry distaste as his least healed arm protests the pressure. He holds Jim tightly anyway only loosening his grip when Jim raises an eyebrow at him archly.

“No running away with anyone else full stop,” Jim warns. He kisses Sebastian's lower jaw.

Sebastian meets dark eyes. “That still made me jumpy earlier. When you said you weren't being fair. I...”

Jim cups the bigger man's face in tender hands. “I am _never_ running away from you, not ever. Do you hear me?”

Sebastian stares at his husband long and hard for a moment. “Yeah, I do, mo chroí.”

Sebastian keeps Jim in his lap but pulls back a bit to awkwardly fumble at his neck. The blond takes his wedding ring and as Jim swallows the big man slides the band back over an only slightly too thin finger.

Jim's heart pounds so hard he might be shaking. He folds his forehead under Sebastian's chin and inhales deeply. “I love you.”

Sebastian's cast feels rough but warm against Jim's back. “I'm still… I get scared sometimes. But I… I do. I do trust you.”

“I love you more than anything,” Jim says.

“Even though I haven't bought you trainers in a while?” Sebastian teases.

Jim chuckles. Sebastian's chest still might not be as broad as before but it feels safe. They stay curled into each other for a long time without needing to say anything else.

Christabelle pops her head around Sebastian's bedroom door in the early evening. The pair are lying in each other's arms in Seb's bed; Jim asleep and Sebastian half-awake.

Sebastian regards his sister curiously. “I didn't expect you to be around again so soon.”

Chris chuckles. “You breeding and getting closer to Mother is driving Og nuts. Why wouldn't I be here?”

Sebastian sits up a little. Jim does not stir. The blond's brow wrinkles a little and asks, “You… You think I'm closer to Mum?”

Christabelle gives him a crooked, knowing smirk. “You did just call her 'Mum'. And haven't ran to sandpaper the word from your tongue.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “That's because I'm not twelve.”

“Even if you still get your legs slapped,” Chris grins.

Sebastian's ears colour. “Shut up.”

“You're still my little brother, and if your hair wasn't getting so thin I'd ruffle it,” says Chris.

“Piss off,” Seb chuckles.

Christabelle tuts playfully. “You need a time out, Muscles?”

Sebastian maturely responds by sticking out his tongue. “You're not my mummy.”

Christabelle leans against the doorframe. “Might as well have been. And now _you_ get to be a mummy.”

Sebastian narrows his eyes at his older sister. “A _daddy_.”

Chris laughs cheerfully. “Honey, you don't have to pretend. We both know you always wanted someone to look after you and,” she looks pointedly at Jim, “a husband is exactly what you got.”

“Great, now _you're_ telling me I'm the bottom?” Sebastian groans.

“I've seen how much you love it when he bosses you around. He does it a lot less now though. What's up with that?” Christabelle queries.

Sebastian arches a brow. “You heard what happened, right?”

“He got involved in something he shouldn't and disappeared to keep you safe? Yeah. And?”

Sebastian hesitates. He shrugs and looks at his arms. “I didn't cope so good when he left.”

“You're not fragile,” Chris says bluntly. “He doesn't have to be so careful with you.”

Sebastian lifts his arms awkwardly. “You don't think..?”

“Sebastian you're not _broken_ ,” Christabelle declares firmly.

Sebastian fidgets with his wedding ring. “I know… I guess?”

“Well I'm telling you,” Chris says, “and I wouldn't lie about it.”

Sebastian regards his sister slowly. “Yeah. I know.”

“Good,” she says pointedly.

Sebastian uses his good arm to run his fingers through his short hair. “So… Did you want something?”

Chris replies, “Your lady friend's here. Mum got her some oils for her stomach. Something to do with the stretching. You want to see her?” 

Sebastian stretches. “Yeah, thanks. Let me wake Sleeping Beauty here.” Christabelle waits as Sebastian shakes Jim's shoulder and tries to rouse the brunet with the explanation.

Jim whines and pulls the duvet over his head despite being fully clothed. “Sleepy. Not going anywhere.”

Seb smiles at his partner tolerantly. “You'll tell me off later if I leave you to sleep. Come on sweetheart, time to get up.”

Jim grumbles softly and Sebastian looks at his injured arms with frustration. Christabelle steps over to his side.

“I can carry my little brother,” she says. “He barely weighs more than a kitten anyhow.”

Sebastian is uncertain what to say. He turns slowly and nudges Jim. “You hear that? If you don't get up Chris is gonna carry you.”

Jim blinks and looks at the fair-haired siblings. His immediate reaction is to protest and get up, away from the contact, but…

Jim did not grow up with sisters or a big family. Although it was somewhat alarming at first, Jim rather likes that on the odd occasions Christabelle is around she ruffles his hair affectionately and teases him like he belongs. Well. He love / hates it. The attention produces a pleased, embarrassed, squirming warmth in his chest not dissimilar to how Jim feels after Mrs Moran scolds him.

Jim bites his lip for a moment then flops down and pulls a pillow over his head. “I weight at _least_ as much as a bobcat.”

Christabelle laughs and Sebastian watches in surprise as she peels Jim's pillow away and worms her fingers underneath the brunet. Jim squirms in an only partly self-conscious display of playfulness, and he squeals aloud when Chris tickles him.

Sebastian cannot help the booming noise of mirth that bursts from his chest. Jim gives him a vaguely sour, rueful look and yelps seconds later when Christabelle uses the distraction to lift him aloft.

Jim suddenly finds it hard to breathe. After all this time he's still unused to casual contact and he's never noticed before how _soft_ Christabelle's body is. She's strong and warm, but her chest isn't firm the way Sebastian's is (even with the blond's decayed muscles) and Chris certainly feels nothing like Mrs Moran's greyhound build.

Christabelle does not notice Jim's fascination with her pillowy body. She plants an unselfconscious, familial kiss on Jim's scalp and jerks her chin at Sebastian to tell her brother to move.

Jim suddenly understands where a lot of Sebastian's affectionate mannerisms developed from.

Christabelle leads them downstairs and Jim feels suddenly uneasy. He's embarrassed to be seen treated so childishly at nearly thirty seven years of age. Chris notices and lets his down at once, but pulls him close to kiss his scalp again and rumple his hair. She walks on ahead as though Jim hasn't just cleared some sort of emotional milestone.

Sebastian takes his hand. They don't have to say anything. Jim gives a grateful squeeze and they follow Christabelle.

Derry looks tired but smiles at them openly. “Evening.”

Sebastian smiles and tugs Jim over before pulling his little husband into his lap. The soft hiss of pain Seb releases makes Jim especially grateful for the reassuring (if mildly embarrassing) handling. 

“How are you both today?” Sebastian asks.

Derry makes a wry noise and shifts in her seat. “Feeling like an overexpanded balloon,” she says dryly. “Baby's impatient to leave I think.”

“Consider yourself lucky,” Mrs Moran says wryly. “You could be past your due date with _twins_.”

Derry makes a face. “Oh, no thank you. One of your giant babies is enough.”

Jim shifts a little uneasily. Sebastian kisses his temple in reassurance.

Christabelle takes a seat beside Derry and reaches for the bag before her. “So have you tried these? Or do you want a hand putting some on?”

“Oh, if you could give me a help that would be _grand_ ,” Derry responds. “I barely have the energy for anything at the moment.”

Chris smiles and warms the oil in her palms. “Yeah, I hear that happens. Make sure you let yourself rest once you're free of your little house guest.”

“Depends whether I snap back like elastic,” Derry says dryly. “I miss my old clothes. And make up! I used to have the energy for proper make up.”

“I can do your make up for you if you like,” Chris says, “make it a proper pampering session. In fact, I've got some moisturising body glitter upstairs. I could paint over these stretch marks for you, make you feel pretty.”

Derry smiles. “Silly as that sounds, I think I'd like that. I look like I've been mauled by a wild animal.”

Sebastian presses his lips to Jim's small ear. “I swear if Jellybean claws her way out of there...”

Jim chuckles softly but watches with a peculiar feeling of interest as Christabelle soothingly rubs Derry's swollen stomach. It shines with oil, making any movements of the baby inside more noticeable as it catches the light.

Jim's still not sure how he feels. He's felt the baby kick before and he genuinely is looking forward to Jellybean's arrival, but he feels odd touching or becoming too close to Derry.

He tries not to think at all about Derry changing her mind about handing over Sebastian's baby. With the size of Jellybean Jim has little doubt she's Sebastian's.

Jim finds himself not taking note of the family's conversation. He looks up in surprise when Chris leaps from her seat to fetch the glitter, and finds himself smiling when Seb's lips softly touch his neck.

“I can't wait to raise a baby with you,” Sebastian murmurs.

Jim feels an overwhelming surge of love for the big blond but grins deprecatingly. “I thought you knew sleep deprivation's a type of torture?”

Sebastian chuckles. “I can tolerate your ice cold feet in bed; I can manage anything.”

Jim chuckles and does not feel so threatened as he watches Mrs Moran and Derry talk. Christabelle returns and Derry seems quite at ease having the blonde's hands return to her gleaming stomach. For all the dark purple stretch marks on her belly _look_ extremely painful, they don't seem to be tender at all.

Derry giggles and shifts a little in her seat as Chris paints her with gold glitter. It seems to interest Jellybean, who wriggles and pushes against the attention. 

Jim feels an unexpected wave of pure affection. He turns to speak to Sebastian and smiles to find the blond seems similarly affected. 

“There,” Chris says when she's done. “Proper tiger stripes.”


	22. The Magnificent Jellybean

The baby's arrival goes perfectly to plan, which is rather uncharacteristic of babies, and of Moran children in particular. The birth is short and uncomplicated with no harm coming to Jellybean or Derry.

Nonetheless Jim finds himself feeling quite differently towards the surrogate mother as she lies back in exhaustion holding the babe. They hadn't been certain before whether it was a good idea for Derry to hold the child, but it seems so reasonable now.

“She's perfect, Siobhan,” Jim breathes.

Derry looks at him in surprise as though Jim dropping his willful avoidance of her name is more shocking to her than her ability to create such a perfect little wrinkle-faced potato.

In fairness, Jellybean is the least potato-like baby Jim has ever seen, but he is certain he must be biased due to hormones or suchlike. _All_ babies look like melted mandrakes. 

It's little surprise to him that Jellybean is a girl though. Sebastian had been so certain.

Derry - _Siobhan_ \- beckons Jim over. She gives him a shy smile and the brunet is struck for the first time by how beautiful she is. Jim does not wonder whether he shares her good looks and instead feels grateful the child will carry such good genes. Some of Siobhan's dark hair is stuck to her face and Jim notes her dark freckles as she gives a shy, warm, proud, gap-toothed smile. Up close like this Siobhan seems like her own person.

Jim feels a gratitude he had not felt so profoundly at all during the pregnancy. Siobhan's lips curl at him without malice suggesting she can somehow read his face. But then, perhaps that's no difficult feat for once. Jim feels like wonder and joy are radiating from his pores.

“We're both spry; the bed'll take us,” Siobhan murmurs.

Jim blinks, but he finds himself drawn to obey. The mother guides him carefully with nudges and soft comments then slowly, oh so carefully, but with perfect trust, hands the newborn to Jim.

He finally understands the appeal of what others have blithely referred to as the blessed 'new baby smell'. Jim finds his lips curl upwards as he draws Jellybean tenderly to his chest. Poor Sebastian might have a contender for best smelling Moran.

Jim slowly pulls his gaze away from the warm baby in his arms. His eyes search out Seb and he finds the blond beaming over them with pure love. Jim smiles back and wonders whether he looks so happy.

“Do you have a name for her yet?” Siobhan asks. 

Jim's eyelids flutter. It feels so strange to be asked such a question by the birth mother. He cannot wrap his mind around how she can possibly expect to leave without the bundle in his arms. He's been holding Jellybean for mere minutes and he's already smitten.

Sebastian moves away from his other family and towards the bed. He takes a seat in the chair by Jim's side. “Thought we'd established her name is Jellybean?”

Jim rolls his eyes. “I'd hit you if I wasn't holding her.”

“He's getting the dad jokes in early,” Siobhan says sounding amused.

Jim sighs but he's not upset at all. He looks at Sebastian speculatively. “Are we still in agreement?”

Sebastian looks at the baby then Jim before nodding emphatically. “Yeah, she's magnificent. If you're in agreement?”

Jim holds the child a little more possessively. “Of course; she's perfect.”

“Well?” Mrs Moran prompts from the other side of the room. Siobhan merely sits back waiting with a patient smile. She reminds Jim of Sebastian for it.

“Alexdrina,” says Sebastian.

“Alexdrina Moran,” Jim agrees, just to feel it on his tongue.

Severin gives them a crooked grin. “Sticking with the weird Moran names are we?”

“It's got a noble history,” Jim responds. “Your Queen Victoria's name was Alexdrina.”

“And she hated it, I believe,” says Gus. “I cannot understand why though; it's perfectly pretty.”

Jim and Sebastian exchange glances. They are uncertain how they feel about gaining grumpy Auntie Augusta's approval.

“Alex the Great it is,” Severin grins.

“Alex the _Magnificent_ ,” Sebastian stresses.

“You bunch of dorks; she's not a wizard,” Christabelle snorts. She approaches the bed and holds out her arms for her niece. “May I?”

Jim feels oddly reluctant to relinquish his baby but hands Alexdrina to Chris anyway. Siobhan touches Jim's shoulder like she understands. Jim swallows.

“With her Daddy's brains she might as well be a wizard,” Sebastian says fondly.

Jim looks at Seb quickly then at Alexdrina. Jim's gaze flickers as he takes another look at the baby girl's dark hair. He had been so certain she would be blond like Sebastian. She's also so much smaller than Jim imagined, a normal baby rather than the monster who seemed ready to split Siobhan's belly.

Alexdrina does not have Siobhan's freckles. It's almost a shame, Jim supposes they would be cute, but he's glad their baby looks more like him than Siobhan.

He's so grateful Alexdrina is alright. He's glad Siobhan is too. Jim's just so happy. 

It's strange how normal it feels being surrounded by family and by a _large_ family at that. Richard is on his way and Sebastian's own brother _and_ both sisters are here.

And Mrs Moran. Jim feels absurdly grateful that their Mam had this bloody insane, utterly perfect idea. He gives the woman a meaningful smile before he finds his gaze being pulled back to Alexdrina in Chris' arms. He feels odd already without the little bundle of life in his own.

Jim blinks as he feels a soft weight land on his shoulder. Siobhan has fallen asleep against his shoulder and the smell of her shampoo is in his nostrils. It flusters Jim for a moment although he knows she must be exhausted. He supposed if the woman intends to trust them with her baby she trusts him enough to fall asleep on him. Jim starts to pull away, the least he can do is give Siobhan her whole bed, but she makes a soft noise of protest and Jim stops.

If she finds him comfortable today he will stay. She's faced far more discomfort for them. Jim wonders whether she will stay in touch.

Mrs Moran comes and sits elegantly on the chair opposite Sebastian. “Now darlings. You don't need to stop at one, but if you want more you _should_ start thinking of the age gap you want between them.”

Severin lets out an undignified guffaw. “You don't waste time, Mum.”

“Oh, I don't know, she had you,” Augusta murmurs.

Severin whirls around at his elder sister's teasing, but Christabelle clears her throat lightly and Severin loosens his shoulders.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as though he started anything.

“Anyway, babies,” Mrs Moran says. “For all my children I have so few grandbabies and-”

Sebastian points at Severin and Gus. “Who says Lexie needs a sibling? Maybe we want a peaceful life.”

“Don't be ridiculous, Sebastian,” his mother responds.

Jim eyes his husband. “And who said we were nicknaming her Lexie?”

“Oh I have every intention of calling her Jellybean for most of her life,” Sebastian responds.

And as I said before, you're getting on in age, Sebastian,” Mrs Moran interrupts. “I did not just have s- _five_ children by magic, you know.”

Jim bites his lip. He likes finally having a family, but having a newborn is close enough to overwhelming at the moment. He feels gratitude as Sebastian reaches for his hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. The blond eyes his terrified husband and tells Mrs Moran, “I think we have enough to be getting on with.” 

The woman nods gracefully. “For the moment.”

Sebastian and Jim press their lips together and accept the victory for what it is. They look over at Christabelle who appears to be thoroughly enjoying strolling about with her placid potato.

“What about you, Chris? Aren't you due a baby?” Sebastian asks cheerfully.

“Menopause,” the blonde shoots back quickly. 

Severin gives her a skeptical look and teases, “Oh, that's no barrier. Mum can find you a baby momma too.”

Christabelle straightens her back further. “I'm not married,” she says primly and turns her back to show Lexie the Magnificent the window as though the baby even has open, focusing eyes.

“I mean, I think it's just selfish of you, Chris,” Severin teases. “Don't you want Alex to grow up with cousins her age to play with?”

“Aren't you still seeing that girl, Sev?” Sebastian asks playfully. “Irene, was it?”

“She's focused on her career!” Severin says swiftly. “And don't you start, or I won't be babysitting your Wizarding Jellybean so you and Baby Daddy can play Mummy and Daddy on date night.”

“Not in front of the baby,” Chris whispered, playfully shielding Alexdrina with her body.

“What is your fascination with which of us is the mummy?” Sebastian sighs.

“Obviously you,” Jim scoffs. “You're the nurturing one.”

Sebastian leans close and whispers to his husband, “Oh trust me pet, I don't have a problem slapping the side of your legs now that the casts are off.”

“I am totally not comfortable talking dirty to you with our surrogate snoring on my shoulder,” Jim responds. Sebastian has the good grace to look chided, but Jim's eyes glitter like he is tempted to purr dubious offers of his own.

“Speaking of Daddies,” Gus says slowly, “Father said, 'congratulations.'”

The younger Morans look surprised but Mrs Moran nods as though this isn't a surprise. Sebastian sits back in his chair mutely trying to process what must surely be a false platitude. It seems odd that their father would say anything of the like.

He has little time to dwell on the curiosity as Richard drags a number of balloons into the room. Christabelle approaches him smiling. “We have a little niece,” she says.

“Alexdrina,” Jim says.

Richard eyes the baby fondly. “I was kind of expecting twins,” he comments. 

“Me too,” Severin agrees. 

Mrs Moran gives a snakelike smile. “As I said, the girl needs siblings. And some middle names. Alexdrina Moran is terribly short for a young lady. When she's announced at her debutant ball-”

“Oh, Mum, she's like a day old,” Severin protests.

“These things take planning,” says Gus. “Oh, what will I wear?”

“In over a decade? Likely a shroud,” Severin teases.

“I have a hairbrush in my bag, young man,” Augusta warns.

“Hey, shhh,” Christabelle hushes the pair. “Play quietly around the baby.”

Sebastian looks at his mother and smiles. “Two little whirlwinds under my roof are enough,” he states dryly. 

Jim gives him a look. “I am perfectly well behaved, thank you.”

Sebastian arches a brow. “Oh, well then we'd best hope Lexie takes after you.”

“Alex,” Jim responds. His eyes are amused.


	23. Noise

“What the fuck were we thinking?” 

Jim kicks at Sebastian and groans, all his recent urges to be extra kind to his lover momentarily forgotten as the noise assaulting his ears reaches an uncomfortable pitch. He pulls a pillow over his head and hisses, “I don't know, it's your turn, go make her stop crying.” 

“You're the one with FNSS,” Sebastian mutters, but gets up anyway. 

Jim rolls his eyes. The brunet may have a variant of the BHLHE41 gene which makes him genetically resistant to the effects of sleep deprivation (insofar as he only requires six hours, not eight), but Jim is definitely grumpier on less sleep. “You're a good mum,” Jim calls after the blond.

Sebastian flashes his fingers up at his husband and fishes a _screaming_ Jellybean from her crib. She resists, red-faced and angry at the world, and Sebastian sees so much of his husband in her he cannot really resent her for the aching ringing in his ears or how damned tired he is.

“Hey, hey, shhh, your Dad's right here for you Lexie, okay?” Sebastian murmurs, holding her writhing form to the warm skin of his chest. Alexdrina captures his sparse chest hair in her tight little fist and lessens her shrieking marginally as she yanks at the dark blond strands. Sebastian bites his lips and bounces the little sadist softly feeling unable to resist glancing over at Jim, his other petulant brat.

Jim is peering out from under his pillow attentively. If asked, he would blame the attention on his inability to sleep as his child cursed them at an unnatural decibel level, but Sebastian knows differently: Jim is fascinated by every moment of their new family and he did not want to miss even this.

Sebastian checks Alexdrina's comfort and discovers she is still dry. She's a newborn so changing her isn't a terrible chore yet, but one less thing to do means the three of them can go back to sleep more quickly.

Sebastian gives Lexie a kiss. “Time to eat, huh, madame?”

His daughter continues to scream. She has little patience for his prattle, much like her Daddy.

“Come on then, hungry girl,” Sebastian croons. “Let's get you a bottle.”

Jim regards them from his fortress. “Do you want me to make up her milk whilst you rock her?”

Sebastian curls his lips feeling amused despite Lexie's continued caterwauling in his ear. “I thought it was my turn?”

Jim wrinkles his nose and drags himself out from under the warm haven of bedcovers. “It _is_ , but you married an exceptionally generous husband.”

Sebastian grins and heads down to the kitchen. “Lexie and I love you _very_ much, generous husband.”

“Her name's Alex,” Jim grouses.

“Her name's Jellybean, but I don't want her introducing herself that way on the first day of school and getting us called in to a parent – teacher meeting,” Sebastian replies.

“We're rich enough we could probably get away with a ridiculous name,” Jim muses.

Sebastian kisses Alexdrina's tiny little skull again. “You hear that Jellybean? _Four_ ponies for your first birthday.”

“You're the reason she's crying you know,” Jim snarks. He hops down the stairs and sets about heating some of Derry's breast milk. The reminder of the birth mother's presence is not an entirely comfortable one for him, but they agree that if this is best for Alex's health they will each suck up the awkwardness of the situation. Right now (as with all the night feeds) Jim is exceptionally glad of Siobhan's generosity, because _stuff_ having to make up formula at this obscene time in the morning.

Sebastian nuzzles Alexdrina comfortingly, careful of his stubble on her delicate skin. “I know baby, know you're hungry, but Daddy is getting your bottle _as soon as he can_ for you, okay?”

“She's as needy as you are,” Jim scoffs.

Sebastian raises his blue eyes from his daughter to his husband. “She's all _you_ , noisy, demanding little princess that she is, and she's perfect. Aren't you, Lexie?”

Lexie hiccups from crying and grimaces as though in resentment at the sudden stop in her imitation of a particularly insistent air raid siren.

Jim chuckles and tests the temperature of the milk against his inner wrist. Sebastian watches and wonders at how such a mundane thing can fill his chest with so much contentment.

Alexdrina stops whimpering the instant the bottle comes within her grasp and dismissively relinquishes Sebastian's poor chest hair. Jim watches her with a smile. “She stuffs her face like you do.”

Sebastian gives the brunet a mildly indignant look. “She's a bit young to teach table manners to.”

Jim grins. “You mean your mum hadn't started on you by now? That explains a _lot_.”

“Don't think I won't give you a time out just because I'm holding our baby,” Sebastian warns.

Jim grins stupidly.

“What?” Sebastian questions. “Oh. Yeah, it still feels nice, doesn't it?”

Jim nods. His fingers brush Alex even as he looks up to Seb. “You know you're going to have to stop disciplining me once she's old enough to notice?”

Sebastian scoffs. “Not a chance. I'm going to train her to tattle on you and everything.”

“Funny,” Jim says with an eye roll. “People are going to talk if she says things in nursery like 'Dad gave my Daddy a time out'.”

“Since when do we care what people say?” Sebastian murmurs. Lexie is becoming quite content in his arms at last.

“Since it's not just the two of us against the world anymore,” Jim replies.

“This one's got more personality than the pair of us combined,” Sebastian says.

Jim's eyes glint. “So as much as her granny then?”

Sebastian chuckles but the noise almost sounds like a yelp. He swallows. “Don't give me fears like that. It's bad enough that she's shaping up to be exactly like you.”

Jim gives his husband a look. “That's a bad thing?”

Sebastian shakes his head with a soft smile. “It's my favourite thing.”

Jim swallows hard because he can feel that Seb means it. “I love you,” the brunet says.

“I love you too,” Sebastian says.

They tend to the rest of Alexdrina's needs then get her settled. The rest of the night (technically early morning) passes in a haze of interrupted sleep. As such, Sebastian is not entirely certain he isn't dreaming when something that is not a crying baby wakes him with a start.

He thinks he has heard the lift mechanism.

Jim turns around tiredly as Sebastian sits up. “What's wrong?”

“Did you hear anything?” Sebastian asks quietly.

“After Alex has had my ears ringing for days? I'm lucky I can hear anything at all,” Jim says, matching Sebastian's hushed tones even though he jokes.

The lift doors announce themselves.

Jim and Sebastian exchange looks. There is a small part of both of them which is more concerned with the baby waking than any possible intruder.

“Might be your Mum,” Jim whispers.

Sebastian nods slowly but gets out of bed. He nods at the crib for Jim to ensure Lexie stays quiet (and preferably asleep). Seb takes a gun from down the back of the bed and creeps downstairs.

He is not expecting what he sees. “Rawdon?”

Sebastian's eldest brother holds up a key. “Chrissy gave me, er...”

Sebastian stares at the man. In his mid fifties, Rawdon's previously blond hair is mostly silver now.

“Don't say it,” Rawdon says.

“You don't look like Father,” Sebastian says. “Your smile's different.”

Rawdon's lips spread and he chuckles softly. He starts walking towards Sebastian and there is something different in his tread -a marginal lean to one side and a stiffness in one leg- that makes the younger sibling glance down. Sebastian notes the narrowness where his big brother's ankle should be. Seb has worked with enough soldiers who have used their prosthetics as gun rests to quickly take note of this new development.

“Obviously, I'm not officially here,” Rawdon says, coming to stand before his younger brother.

Sebastian rubs at his scarred wrists self-consciously. “Sev says you visited when I… Thanks.”

Rawdon clasps Sebastian's upper arm and looks him directly in the eyes. “You've nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm sorry you went through that.”

Sebastian swallows. He's having a tough time meshing this accepting version of Rawdon with his seemingly perfect, toxically masculine brother of years ago.

Sebastian bites his lip. “D'you know that I'm… um...”

“Into blokes?” Rawdon suggests helpfully. “Yes. Sev told me at the hosp- well, he told me. And I have also heard that you and your husband have just had a baby girl.”

Sebastian is uncertain what he was expecting, but it wasn't a casual acceptance.

“You look knackered,” Rawdon says. “Have you and your husband fed _yourselves_ today?”

Sebastian considers. “Uh… No?” He feels a surge of guilt for being a bad husband.

Rawdon doesn't shake his head or tisk. He nods instead. “Right. Get back to bed. I'll quietly get something cooking. Off you go.”

Sebastian blinks then nods. “Alright.”

He returns upstairs feeling dazed. He realises halfway up the stairs he still has a pistol redundantly in his hand and shoves it down his waistband. It occurs to him that he hasn't attempted to shoot anything since his… misadventures with his tendons. Sebastian feels a surge of relief that he hasn't had to test his ability.

Jim regards him from the foot of the bed. “If any other ghosts from your past want to get us out of bed I'll make certain that next time they stay dead. Now come back here and spoon me before Alex wakes up.”

Sebastian grins and doesn't have to be told twice. He discards the gun and gladly accepts a share of Jim's body heat. 

When Seb is roused later it is not, for once, by Lexie's racket. A mouthwatering scent of soup drifts up from downstairs and he can hear quiet conversation between Jim and Rawdon.

Sebastian glances to Lexie's cot. It's empty, so she must be downstairs with her family. Sebastian stretches and pulls on jogging bottoms before making his way to them.

He is mildly surprised to see Rawdon hugging Lexie with a practised ease and tenderness, but Seb supposes it is not really such a strange thing.

Jim glances around. “Your brother fed me and maybe I married the wrong Moran.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes and his filter has not woken up enough to stop him from calmly retorting, “I'm not worried. He wouldn't bend over for you.”

Rawdon covers Alexdrina's tiny ears carefully. "Not in front of the baby I wouldn't."

Sebastian lets out an astonished laugh. He does not know how else to respond. Jim twists around to stick out his tongue at his husband.

There are two washed bowls beside the sink and one sitting out in anticipation. Sebastian moves to the stove, where a large pot is simmering. Generally speaking, men in Sebastian's family were not encouraged to cook, but Seb can remember Rawdon's soups and stews when the elder boy had taken him camping.

The familiar soup seems better than Sebastian remembered. “Yeah okay,” Sebastian chuckles, “maybe I'd marry him too.”

Rawdon laughs, but quietly, so as not to disturb his niece.

Sebastian settles beside Jim and feels oddly pleased that Rawdon does not bat an eye when Jim moves as close as he can without knocking over the warm bowl. “So is this what you've been doing in the afterlife?” Sebastian asks. “Improving your culinary skills?”

“Why else would one disappear into the night?” Rawdon replies.

Somehow Sebastian and Jim are comfortable enough with each other in the moment that that question does not sting. Perhaps their wound is healing.

“Are you happy?” Sebastian asks.

Rawdon nods slowly. “A lot happier than back then. However I was young, and it was a long time ago; I can hardly imagine what life would have been like if I had stayed.”

“How long are you here for?” Jim asks.

“Just a flying visit, so I'm afraid you'll have to survive on 'Bastian's cooking,” Rawdon smiles.

Sebastian looks at his husband. Jim shrugs. “Your cooking's not _bad_ , it's just not very traditional. I can't remember the last time we had English soup like that.”

“I didn't grow up in England,” Sebastian reminds them. “I learnt from the cooks we had at the time.”

“Oh crikey, _Iran_ ,” Rawdon says. “I forgot we lived there.”

Sebastian regards his brother with surprise. With their father being so heavily involved with the politics there, many of his own formative memories are of the land their grandparents had still stubbornly called Persia. It is odd to realise that with Rawdon being older, and leaving so young, he does not carry the same memories.

Rawdon waves away the thoughts. “I'm just here to see this one here and because it's good to see you're in a better place. I'll be giving Chrissy back her key and heading back to my real life soon enough.”

“I'm not sure how I feel about a ghost telling me my life isn't real,” Sebastian jokes.

“Well at least I'm not a malignant one,” says Rawdon. He indicates a parcel on the new coffee table.

Jim picks up the surprisingly heavy box and swaps it for Sebastian's plate. Seb peers inside.

“That one is what I would have gotten Alexdrina if I hadn't left,” Rawdon says as Sebastian pulls out a weighty, traditional, ornate silver moneybox. “And that's what I think she'd prefer,” Rawdon continues as Sebastian handles a brightly coloured sensory toy that crackles softly in enticement.

“Thank you,” the parents smile. 

Jim holds up an envelope. Rawdon grins. “ _That_ is Chrissy's takings from some pool she ran about the little one. She's put it in a savings account.”


	24. Sire's Ire

Sebastian feels odd for the next few days. Whilst growing up Rawdon had always been the sort of young man their parents valued and the thought of Rawdon - _so_ like their father- could possibly have wanted anything other than the life he seemed so fit for is difficult for Sebastian to process. Even so, if Seb supposes that Rawdon was simply much better at faking it and inwardly hated toeing the imaginary line, it still leaves Sebastian unnerved. Homosexuality _was not_ acceptable in their household growing up, however much their mother was willing to turn her eyes from Sebastian's more open indiscretions in his youth providing he obediently followed the other rules (not getting kicked out of Eton, or Oxford, or ...well, the army).

Sebastian has not only flagrantly thrown out all pretences of being an upstanding, heterosexual officer of good breeding, he has _married_ a man. And if all the ribbing is anything to go by, Seb is not only openly in a relationship with a man, but gets taken for the woman in their relationship. Not to mention he has a _daughter_ with his _husband_.

How the previously perfectly homophobic snob Rawdon could have grown into someone _who didn't seem to find a thing wrong with any of this_ is quite frying Sebastian's mind. Possibly doing so just as much as the lack of sleep that comes with a newborn baby is.

Acceptance from Rawdon would once have meant acceptance as belonging in that world their family belong to. Rawdon got out, so presumably nothing really changed except Rawdon. Their society probably still finds Sebastian an utter disaster (if rumours of his homosexual marriage haven't been the final nail in his reputation's coffin, rumours about his suicide attempt will certainly have been).

None of that would usually bother Sebastian. He's at least twenty years past feeling the need to please his parents. And yet… Maybe it's a mixture of being surrounded by his family and now having a little family of his own but… Sebastian finds there is a part of him now that _does_ care.

Rawdon probably has something to do with it. Despite the warm eyes and missing leg the poor bastard does look strikingly like their sire, the far from honorable Lord Moran (knighted Sir Moran Moran after some supposed chivalrous bravery overseas, but it has always been _birthright_ that has been stressed as most important).

Gus had said their father had _congratulated_ them about baby Alexdrina.

Sebastian has no idea how to begin processing that. Ordinarily he finds it most prudent to simply ignore any dealings with his father, but this second degree interaction niggles. It is almost something resembling a compliment, and Sebastian certainly cannot remember the last time his father bestowed a genuine one upon him. Not that the man was necessarily being genuine with the message Augusta gave, but it would be far more the old man's style to let his displeasure known via his silent absence.

Why had Lord Moran given such congratulations?

The question agitates Sebastian worse because of Rawdon's acceptance. Rawdon is so like their father that Sebastian cannot help compare the men. If Rawdon can apparently accept Sebastian and Sebastian's life choices, could their father?

It is a ridiculous question and one Sebastian feels embarrassed to wonder. Jim picks up on Sebastian's distraction despite the tiredness of them both and questions the blond on it in a moment when Alexdrina is blessedly quiet.

“I don't think you're stupid for wondering,” Jim says, quite surprising his husband. “I'm still grateful that you encouraged me to reach out to Richie.”

“Yeah, well, family's important to you,” Sebastian says.

Jim arches a brow. “And not to you?”

“Not _him_.” Sebastian makes a face. “He's never mattered to me.”

Jim makes a face of his own. “Hasn't he?” he says carefully.

Sebastian swallows. “Shut up,” he mutters.

“You brought it up,” Jim reasons.

“Yeah, well… I'm an idiot,” Sebastian grumbles softly.

Jim leans over and kisses the bigger man. “You're not an idiot. You're perfectly reasonable to be curious about a relationship with your father.”

“He beat us bloody growing up,” Sebastian says. “I don't want him near Alexdrina.”

“He's not _getting_ near her,” Jim responds. “We're just talking over… whether he's mellowed any in his old age. Became any less of a _prick_.”

Sebastian swallows. “I haven't been afraid of him in fucking years, but...”

“But you didn't expect to ever get his approval for anything, and the possibility -however small- is enough to knock you for six,” Jim says. He easily puts into words what Sebastian struggles to, and not for the first time Sebastian wonders how he managed to marry a man who understands him better than he sometimes even knows himself.

Sebastian pulls Jim close and breathes in the comforting scent of him. “I don't know what to think,” he mumbles thickly.

“You don't need to know right away,” Jim says. “Carry it about for a bit, mull it over as and when you want. You'll figure out how you feel. Then we'll talk it over again and take whatever steps you decide are best.”

“How the fuck did you become so smart?” Sebastian asks Jim's bare neck.

“I was always smart,” Jim says archly. His voice softens. “You taught me how to understand feelings. I didn't have a clue about any of them beyond anger and hate and boredom until I met you.”

“Oh, you had confusion down,” Sebastian comments. “You stared at me for the first few years like I was an alien or wild animal or something.”

“You might as well have been both, Tiger,” Jim smiles. “I'd _never_ met anyone like you.”

“And now you've met Sev,” Sebastian smiles.

Jim scoffs. “He's _like_ you but he's not you. Might be the more handsome one, what with your lovely scars and all.”

“Fuck you,” Sebastian retorts fondly.

Jim smiles at him. “He's not enough of a fucking idiot as to follow a tiger down a drain, get gouged open, lose his nipple to septic, and then spend a small fortune getting the whole mess tattooed over in colours that are only now starting to fade. I picked the right Moran.”

“Because you like my tattoos?”

“Because you're a fucking moron, my love, and you probably wouldn't love me right back if you weren't,” Jim teases.

Sebastian huffs good-naturedly and mouths Jim's collarbone. “Thanks, Sasslips.”

Jim curls a hand around the back of Sebastian's scalp. “You're welcome.”

They snuggle close and if they weren't utterly exhausted from the past few days they would probably have gotten amorous. As it was, the couple curled into each other and napped happily until Alexdrina decided it was time for them to get up.

And that is when Mrs Moran decides to arrive. Sebastian and Jim exchange a look as they hear the lift mechanism, but Jim checks his nearby phone and holds it up with a lopsided smile. “Your Mum's on her way up.”

“Great,” Sebastian says.

“Can you hold Alex whilst I go put something on?” Jim asks. “I love your Mum and everything but I'd rather she didn't see me in my pants.”

“Has she ever seen you undressed when you haven't been naughty?” Sebastian asks as he reaches for their daughter.

Jim isn't too sleepy to blush. “Shut up,” he mutters.

“Holding the baby so you can't make me,” Sebastian teases.

Jim holds back a curse and dives upstairs.

Sebastian has been forgoing wearing tops recently as Lexie appears to prefer his bare torso, and it's a lot easier to just step into the shower than to face the growing pile of dirty laundry that they are accumulating. He has shaved his chest to defend against his daughter's grabby little hands but she is too distracted by a warm bottle to complain to her Dad about it. It hasn't bothered Sebastian until now, but he suddenly feels underdressed as his mother waltzes in.

She manages to refrain from opening with an insult as she swans over. She kisses his stubbled cheek then holds out her hands for her granddaughter. “May I?”

There was a point in Sebastian's life where he would never have permitted his mother contact with any children he supposed he may one day have. He doesn't know when things changed. He supposes he trusts her with Lexie. Perhaps it's because the woman has been so protective of Jim.

Sebastian hands his mother Lexie and her bottle. Mrs Moran beams and wanders around the room slowly with her granddaughter.

“You can go shave,” the woman says.

Sebastian rubs his face. “What for? I'm not going out anywhere.”

“Because I am here now and _I_ have standards even if you don't,” his mother says archly.

“Why do you care?”

“Because you are raising my granddaughter and babies are impressionable,” Mrs Moran responds.

Sebastian stares at her. “Lexie doesn't care and she's a baby; she's not going to remember whether or not I shaved daily when she was a newborn.”

“Do as your mother says, dear,” Mrs Moran intones sternly.

Sebastian sighs. He doesn't know why, but he heads off to obey. He meets Jim on the stairs just as his mother calls out, “You realise those stairs aren't safe for a child?” 

Jim makes a face at Sebastian and heads down to his mother in law. Reasonably he points out, “She can't walk yet.” 

“We'll get a baby gate!” Sebastian calls down.

“I'll look into things and find you some more suitable properties,” Mrs Moran sniffs.


	25. Mothers

“We're not moving,” Jim tells Mrs Moran for days on end. Sebastian grunts out agreements each time but Jim cannot shake the feeling Seb's heart isn't in them.

“You going to tell me what's on your mind?” the brunet asks later.

“Mm? I wasn't thinking about my father,” Sebastian says, sitting up and rubbing his face as though to increase his alertness.

“I know that,” says Jim, “but you're definitely obsessing over _something_.”

The blond gives his husband a sidelong look. His voice is vaguely put out as he responds, “I don't obsess. Except about you. And you're too tired from the night feeds to run away.”

Jim snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, because _that's_ the reason I stay,” the man scoffs. “You know that's not what I'm talking about.”

Sebastian sighs in drawn out frustration. Jim's lips quirk at the youthful reaction and he cannot help but remember Seb's usual teasing about living with a teenaged Jim. “Come on, darling, big boy pants now. You can do it,” Jim teases.

Sebastian gives him a soft glare. “I am not the wife or the child in this relationship, Sasslips.”

Jim grins. “You're trying to change the subject, Tiger.”

Sebastian glowers. He can see his brunet is using his own methods of being reasonable against him, and can tell Jim is thoroughly enjoying doing so. Seb asks, “Was I as annoying as you when we first got together?”

“Much worse,” Jim smirks. “Now out with it.”

Sebastian huffs, glances over his shoulder to check whether Lexie is sleeping deeply, then moves quickly over to his husband and pins Jim against the furniture with a soft growl. Jim grins and rests his hands on the strong arms either side of him without making any attempt to remove them.

“Someone's feeling insecure I see,” Jim says.

Sebastian frowns and pulls back a bit, the predatory smirk on his face splitting into confusion. “What?”

Jim tilts up his chin. “I am not going to help you feel like a man until you tell me what's wrong, Sebby.”

“Have I ever told you that sometimes your brains are a bit annoying, Arty?” Sebastian sighs.

Jim grins. “Yes, Seb. Now do as Daddy says.”

Sebastian huffs and takes a deep breath. “I think Mum might be right,” he admits through clenched teeth.

“Right about what?” Jim asks, arching a brow.

Sebastian frowns. “The apartment,” he says softly.

“What about it?”

Sebastian chews his lip. “Maybe we should move.”

Jim blinks and his husband feels a momentary pleasure at managing to surprise the brunet.

“What makes you think that?” Jim asks. He makes a face and tries to joke, “Don't want to raise Alex in a nursery that was the first place I found one of your guns?”

Sebastian swallows and tries to smile. “I love that all our rooms have memories.”

“Then what's wrong?” Jim asks.

Sebastian looks down. He takes a deep, rallying breath and admits, “I don't… My hands aren't what they were. And I don't know if...” he trails off looking frustrated, guilty and vulnerable. He looks up at the ceiling and continues, “I don't know if I'll ever be as… competent.”

Jim pulls Seb's hands from the wall to his waist then puts his own arms around the blond. “Your brother's visit shook you up, huh?”

“What if something happens and I can't… defend you?” Sebastian mumbles. “This place wasn't built as a safehouse. Maybe we should get something reinforced...”

Jim rests his face against Sebastian's chest. “We're hardly without security measures here.”

“I know,” Sebastian says, “but...”

Jim presses closer to his blond. “We could tighten security. It's not like we can't afford to.”

Sebastian rests his chin on Jim's warm scalp. “But what if that's not enough? What if one day we _need_ my skills as a last resort and… and..?”

“I understand,” says Jim. He lets Sebastian sit with the decision for a few days and then together they start looking at properties and packing boxes.

Mrs Moran 'helps' them find a suitable removal company and Severin _helps_ them move the belongings which cannot be trusted to strangers.

Jim likes Severin. In nature the blond is very like Sebastian, and it is hard to dislike someone so similar to the man Jim loves best in all the world. Sev is warm and funny and has a vaguely endearing enthusiasm for blowing things up that Jim cannot help be amused by.

Severin also openly loves Sebastian a great deal and that matters to Jim even more. The brunet enjoys watching the brothers cheerfully bicker and play around with each other. Severin is not quite house-trained, as Jim notes with a mildly sour expression as the two fools roughhouse playfully with each other mindless of the very expensive belongings in their immediate vicinity. Still, the chastised look Severin gives immediately afterwards puts Jim back in a good humour. Sebastian doesn't take much heed to Jim's scoldings after so many years of marriage, merely grinning and promising to be better behaved (the handsome liar). Severin, meanwhile, seems to never quite have forgotten being abducted by Jim all those years ago for what was by most people's standards a rather unconventional wedding.

It takes days to get the house into some semblance of order, _especially_ with a newborn present. Severin runs interference for the couple whilst Mrs Moran takes on the role of project manager with rather too much zeal (especially as she actually employed a project manager).

Severin laughs himself silly when he sees his twin carting Alexdrina about in a baby carrier. “Never have I truly seen you as wholly gay until this moment,” Severin says when he recovers.

“If I wasn't carrying your niece I'd wipe that smile from your face,” Sebastian responds.

Severin smirks and takes out his phone to snap a quick photograph of his brother and the baby. “Oh trust me, bro, the kid's going to tease you for this look too once she's old enough.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes and uses his free hand to flash two fingers at his brother. “You're just jealous because you couldn't possibly create something as beautiful as my family.”

Severin chuckles. “Have you been getting oestrogen treatments or what?”

“When did you become such a prick?” Sebastian chortles.

Severin winks. “Spent most of my week with you. It's doing terrible things for my behaviour, not having Irene at my side to wash my mouth out. Should I get her to visit? She'd be quite scandalised at the mouth you kiss your beautiful baby with.”

Sebastian glowers at his brother. “Do you want me to remind Mum that you aren't married yet? Because I'll do it.”

Severin scoffs but Sebastian can tell when his twin is somewhat cowed. Severin tilts his chin defiantly. “Maybe I should tell your husband you're swearing in front of the baby. Won't that get your legs slapped?”

A smile spreads across Sebastian's face.

Severin is immediately puzzled. “What?”

“You just called Jim my husband,” Sebastian grins.

“Well that's what he is, isn't he?” Severin responds, although he can clearly understand Sebastian.

Lexie reaches clumsily for her father's hand as he points at his twin. “You never miss a chance to tease us,” says Sebastian.

“Hey, trust me, I'm being charitable only ragging on you for,” Severin looks at Alexdrina and searches for a polite term, “your _preferences_. You think it's easy looking at how skinny you've gotten and biting my tongue about it? I am a latter day _saint_ , brother.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes again. “Hey, I'm managing to fit workouts around a new baby and a new house. If we compare the effort we're putting in I am running _laps_ around you, 'Rin.”

“Did you get that viewpoint from Pinterest or Mumsnet?” Severin asks with faux innocence.

“You can tell me, once I get Mum to marry you off to Irene,” Sebastian smirks. 

Severin points at his twin. “See, it's things like this that make me like your wife more than you.”

“Uh-uh, my _husband_ , and you love me too,” Sebastian says.

Severin scoffs. “Oh, I love you, but I don't have to like you.”

“You're just blessed this way,” Sebastian says.

Severin rolls his eyes (a trait he has certainly picked up from Seb). “Shut up and give me your baby before I report back to Mum. I could do with the protection.”

Sebastian laughs. “You are not using my baby! Fight your own battles.”

“Have you seen our wrinkles? Alexdrina's cuter than we are,” Severin reasons.

They debate the issue some more but come to no resolution as Jim strides up looking tense. He kisses Alex, calms down at little, and says, “Mam's giving me a hard time over the baby's room. Says it can't be blue and has told the decorators to get other paint. She suggested a princess theme.”

“The theme is space! How can she argue with bringing up her granddaughter with the ideal that the universe is in her little grasp?” Sebastian says.

“She says science is _masculine_ , apparently,” Jim complains.

“Tell her if blue is good enough for the Mother Mary it's good enough for her grandbaby,” Severin says.

Sebastian laughs and kisses Jim's head. “I'll talk to her, sweetheart.”

“Thank you. Give me Alex. I need the baby smell to soothe me,” Jim says.

Sebastian scoffs. “Stuff that. If I'm off to wage war on my mother's decisions I'm taking Lexie for protection.”

Severin gives his twin a look. Sebastian winks at him and carries Alexdrina off to battle.

That night Mrs Moran gives them all a distinctly unimpressed look as the boys suggest ordering takeaway. Her twins are astonished when she stays but Jim watches her talk deprecatingly to Alexdrina about the greasy foreign food and knows she's loving every moment. Except for actually eating the meal.

Afterwards when they are alone and Alexdrina has been put down to sleep Sebastian asks Jim, “Do I look stupid when I have Lexie strapped to my chest?”

“Because you're a man mountain?” Jim asks.

Sebastian scoffs. “Hardly anymore.”

Jim tilts his head thoughtfully. “You're not as big as you were before but you're still huge compared to… well, me. A normal man.”

Sebastian's eyes glitter. “Oh, normal are you? That's news to me. Just like you being as tall as a _normal man_.”

Jim bites Sebastian lightly and smiles when the blond exclaims then laughs. “You'll wake the baby!” Seb scolds.

Jim winces and looks over Sebastian's shoulder to their Jellybean, but the little banshee remains asleep for the moment. He breathes a sigh of relief. Alex does not take kindly to being woken by surprise.

“And no, not because I'm so big,” Sebastian says. “Does it make me..?”

“What?” Jim asks lifting his face curiously from where he had been resting it beside the now damp and throbbing part of Seb's bitten skin.

Sebastian purses his lips, suddenly feeling mildly ridiculous. “Does it… make me look gay?”

“Does your wedding ring?” Jim responds archly.

“Loving a man isn't the same as… looking like I do,” Sebastian mutters, ears pink.

“You've always looked masculine, Tiger,” Jim says.

“Even with a pink baby carrier?”

“You look like a _dad_ ,” Jim says. “A loving one.”

Sebastian nods thoughtfully.

“Where did this come from?” Jim asks. “You don't normally care when your brother teases you.”

“It's not just that,” Sebastian sighs.

“Your dad?” Jim asks.

“Stuff him; what would he know about being a parent?” Sebastian sneers.

“What then?” Jim presses. “Are you feeling tetchy because most of the parenthood books we've read have been aimed at new mothers?”

“I'm not a mother,” Sebastian mutters.

“Neither am I,” Jim says. “And you've never cared much about some nonsense toxic masculinity before, so what's new?”

Sebastian sighs and rolls onto his back, pulling Jim onto his chest. “I don't know,” the blond mutters.

Jim considers. He thinks of Derry – Siobhan - _Derry_ and feels a little sick. “Do you think Jellybean's going to miss out without a mother?”

“Of course not,” Sebastian says. He sighs. “But we're going to have to do the mum stuff as well as the dad stuff, especially since we've got a daughter.”

“We can manage that,” says Jim.

“I don't know what a normal mum is like,” Sebastian says. “Things are better now, but growing up… Mum just wasn't there. Chris was for a bit, until I was thirteen or so and went to Eton, but that's all I've got. What if I'm not enough?”

Jim takes his husband's face tenderly. “Of course you're enough,” he says firmly.

“Why are you so sure?” Sebastian asks. “I'm a mess, mo chroí.”

“Firstly, you are _not_ a mess,” Jim says. “You are my husband and Lexie's father and you are _perfect_. Secondly, I didn't have _anyone_ when I met you. I was hard work. You made my life worth living. All that love and understanding in you… You are exactly the sort of man to be a parent.”

Sebastian takes a deep breath and holds on to the words. They help. “Thanks Arty,” he says.

“And besides,” Jim continues, “those pecs of yours are practically breasts anyway. You're the sort of mum everyone would fancy.”

Sebastian snorts and squeezes Jim close. “I'm not a woman,” the blond responds, sounding rather tetchy. 

“Well thank fuck because you're always telling me I have mummy issues,” Jim comments. 

Sebastian looks at his husband and purses his lips.

Jim smirks unkindly. “You _did_ wear women's knickers on our wedding night, though, darling girl. And correct me if I'm recollecting incorrectly, but I believe I rode you silly.” 

“You'll be lucky if I even let you ride your hand from now on,” Sebastian glowers.

“You mean you're not going to lie back and think of England for me?” Jim teases. 

“Certainly not,” Sebastian says. He gives his husband a look and smirks, “I have just given birth after all.”

Jim chuckles and pulls Seb close. “That's fine, Tiger, but you're still going to give me a good, long kiss.”


	26. Nannies

“So what’s the plan?” Severin asks.

Sebastian lifts his gaze from Lexie to his brother. “Plan for what?”

Severin smiles, unable to cuff his sibling whilst holding his niece. “You know, your lives?”

Jim swipes a biscuit and takes a seat beside them. “If you’re talking about putting Alex on lists for nurseries and _schools_ we have let your mother handle it.”

“Although she won’t be boarding,” Sebastian says firmly.

Severin chuckles. “A Moran not _boarding_? Bet Mum took _that_ in her stride.”

“She didn’t shout as much as I expected,” Sebastian muses.

“And she didn’t change it behind our backs,” Jim says. “I checked.”

Sebastian adds, “Twice.”

“Do you think all this softening is normal for someone her age?” Severin questions. “Maybe we should be calling a doctor about it.”

Sebastian snorts. “Do you _want_ her to go back to the way she was when we were Lexie’s age? Let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth here.”

Jim rolls his eyes. “Don’t you feel that your priorities have changed as you’ve gotten older? Your Mum’s allowed to feel that way too.”

“Stop labouring under the wild misapprehension that our mother is capable of human emotions,” Sebastian scoffs.

“You’re biased because you’re her favourite,” Severin agrees.

Jim’s dark eyes sparkle. “Well, you can hardly blame her there. The woman has impeccable taste.”

“And that’s why she’s had the baby’s nursery repainted against your orders three times so far,” Severin counters with a grin.

Jim sighs. “She just needs something to occupy her.”

“Get her to vet your nannies or something,” Severin suggests.

Jim blinks. “Nannies?”

Sebastian shakes his head. “Neither of us are going to work full time any more. We won’t need a ton of nannies.”

“Why would we need any nannies at all?” Jim asks. “Alex has Chris if she needs to talk about girl stuff growing up.”

“We’re capable of talking about girl stuff,” Sebastian interjects.

“Yeah, but she might not want to talk to her dads about periods or snogging boys,” Severin points out.

Sebastian cringes and reaches over to cover Alexdrina’s ears. “My Jellybean’s not going to be kissing any boys!”

“Or girls then,” Severin says.

“No kissing anyone!” Sebastian insists. “My little girl is going to be a nun. She’s not going to be involved in any of that nonsense. In fact maybe we should home school her and she can live with us forever.”

“Glad to see what a reasonable, practical partner I picked for the father of my child,” Jim mutters.

“You didn’t pick me, my mother had to get you to do the right thing,” Sebastian sniffed in playful haughtiness.

“I thought we’d established that you carrying Jim’s babies would have ruined your figure?” Severin teases.

“For the last time I am not the woman in our relationship,” Sebastian retorts.

Jim responds, “To be fair, Seb, it’s patently obvious that I am not in possession of child-bearing hips.”

Sebastian turns a stern look on his husband. “If you’re saying that _I_ am, love, _brat_ , I’m going to put you over my knees whether my brother’s here or not.”

“If you _dare_ spank me in front of your brother I’m not putting out for a _month_ ,” Jim asserts.

“Uh, ‘the brother’ would like to point out that your kid’s going to have massive therapy bills once she’s old enough to understand words,” Severin tells them both.

Sebastian grins and pulls Jim towards him. “We can afford it. Now what were you saying about my hips, sweetheart?”

“A month, Sebastian Moran,” Jim warns crisply.

Sebastian grins and nips the pale brunet’s neck with his teeth. “The baby’s keeping us up all night anyway, so I’m not expecting much action this month. Your threat’s empty, Sasslips.”

“Get your hand off of my arse,” Jim grumbles, making no move to shove away Sebastian’s wrist.

Sebastian chuckles, gives Jim a firm squeeze, then lightly slaps his husband’s bottom before wrapping his arms around Jim’s waist. “You’re welcome,” the blond teases.

“I hate you,” Jim says fondly.

Sebastian kisses the side of his brunet’s face. “Now, now, don’t make me wash your mouth out too, pet.”

“So, _nannies_ ,” Severin says loudly. He looks down in surprise as Alexdrina pulls at his shirt in protest to the noise. He kisses her nose softly and chuckles when she attaches her little fist to his stubble.

Sebastian rubs his own jaw absently. “What age do babies start to understand twins?”

Severin raises his gaze and an eyebrow, his lower face still in Alexdrina’s clutches. “I’ve got at _least_ a hundred pounds on you, Funsize. She can tell us apart.”

Sebastian purses his lips. “You’re lucky you’re holding my daughter, Chubs.”

“She can tell you apart because I choose Seb’s cologne,” Jim says dryly.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Severin asks.

“It means until Irene lost her senses you wore Brut,” says Jim.

“What’s wrong with Brut?” Severin asks.

“Exactly,” says Jim. “How you and Seb can be your mother’s sons is beyond my understanding.”

“We were mostly raised by nannies,” Severin says.

“Not exactly selling the concept to me,” Jim says.

“If you had nannies you could both be getting more sleep at night, so you would actually have energy for conjugals,” Severin says.

Jim looks sorely tempted for a moment then makes a face and points at Severin. “Nice try. You’re just trying to give your idiot brother more excuses to try to slap my arse.”

“It is a nice arse for a man your age; Seb doesn’t need my help to be encouraged to touch it,” Severin teases.

“Remember when we _just_ had a conversation about what we talk about in front of Jellybean? Yeah, I suddenly get it,” Sebastian says. “Please don’t talk about my husband’s body when holding our baby.”

Severin winks. “Hey, I’ve got a cute sister-in-law.”

“If you ever want to have kids of your own, Severin Moran, you won’t call me that again,” Jim cautions firmly.

Severin rolls his eyes. “He who holds the baby is safe from violence.”

“Sick up on him, Lexie,” Sebastian prompts. 

Jim sighs and turns to his husband. “You are not helping.”

“Nannies would help,” Severin says. “I’m going to have at least two dozen.”

“And Irene’s going to have your balls if you look at any of them,” Sebastian scoffs.

Severin smirks. “You’re not the only unconventional couple, you know.”

“We are perfectly conventional,” Sebastian says. “We dress like men and drink hard liquor and shoot...” he trails off with a frown at himself.

“Do you want to come to the range with me at the weekend?” Severin asks gently.

Sebastian nods slowly. He casts his gaze around the new house. “Some more security around the place might be a good idea...”

Severin looks thoughtful. “Vix has been in close protection for a while. I reckon you could afford her.”

Sebastian rubs his face. “You might be onto something.” He turns to Jim. “Vix served with us. She’s good.”

“And she’s got experience with kids. She’s been guarding some little royals in the middle east and I know she’s been thinking about coming back to England,” Severin muses.

Jim nods, his fingers curling around Sebastian’s nearest scarred arm. “If you’re interested in new staff I can think of a couple of people that might be good for Alex too.”

“You know I never said none of our nannies were competent with firearms,” Severin comments.

Sebastian chuckles. “God, do you remember old Mrs Thakur? She put me in my place when I told Chris girls couldn’t shoot.”

“I remember her daughter Supriya,” Severin mutters.

Sebastian laughs. “I thought I was going to _die_ laughing when she punched you that hard. You deserved it.”

“I didn’t know veal was baby cow! I was ten,” Severin protests.

“You never forgot though did you?” Sebastian points out. He pulls Jim onto his lap and says, “We’re going to have to teach Lexie how to throw a punch.”

“We’re going to have to teach her to _walk_ first,” Jim points out.

“Can you take my princess for a bit?” Severin asks. “I want to check Facebook and see what Priya’s up to.”

“Living a full life without you,” Sebastian teases.


	27. The Strict Parent

A few emails pass back and forth between the Moran brothers and Vix before Jim hears Sebastian take a call from a woman with a loud and dryly cheerful Leicester accent. Seb is vague about his injuries, feeling somewhat embarrassed, but if Vix picks up on that she doesn't say. Instead she mentions she has leave due and schedules a day in the future to meet.

“Do you want to come up with a story for what happened?” Jim asks his husband softly.

Sebastian thinks it over with a mild frown then shakes his head. “No point lying about it, but I'm not bringing up the details if no one asks.”

“I understand,” Jim says. He climbs onto the blond's lap.

Sebastian cuddles his husband and looks at the red scars of his wrists. They are still tinged with purple in places, and have yet to fade to pink even at the shallowest parts. They are highly noticeable, but as everyone in the family knows how they occurred, Sebastian has not felt much need to hide them. He does not like the feeling of clothing against this skin.

“If anyone is the right fit for us they're not going to judge your scars, Tiger,” Jim says.

Sebastian grunts an acknowledgement and twists his wrists to better examine his scar tissue. “What's Lexie going to think though?”

“They'll have died down in colour by the time she's old enough to notice,” Jim says. He shrugs. “We'll tell her you had an accident.”

“What about when she's older and works it out?” Sebastian sighs.

“When she's older she'll know her Dad is brave and loving and loyal and kind and smart and everything she needs in a parent, _and she won't care_.”

Sebastian pulls Jim close against his chest and rests his chin on the smaller man's shoulder. “I really love you, d'you know that?”

The brunet smiles and twists to kiss what he can reach of Seb's face. “Yes, darling, I do.”

Sebastian smiles and simply basks in holding his husband for a while. Jellybean is with her grandmother and the quiet is peaceful.

Sebastian gloms a kiss onto the tabletop scar on Jim's scalp. The brunet turns and wryly mutters, “You're gonna make me go bald quicker.”

“I'll still fancy you,” Seb says contentedly.

Jim rolls back his skull like a cat needing petted. “You better.”

Sebastian kisses the side of his husband's head and raises a hand to massage the spoilt pet's scalp. “So,” Seb says calmly, “who were you thinking of for gun-toting nannies?”

Jim chews his lip. “There's an army medic I used to know. She… patched me up a few times. I'd trust her with Alex.” Jim indicates his scar with a lightness of gesture that suggests he isn't entirely comfortable with what else he is about to say. “I got split back open not long after I'd ran away from home. She's good at dealing with feral kids in an emergency, so she can probably manage Jellybean just fine.”

Sebastian nods slowly. He kisses Jim's scar a few times and agrees, “She makes the list. What's her name?”

“Captain Gérard. Er, she was a captain. She's probably been promoted by now,” Jim answers.

“She not have a first name?” Seb queries.

Jim bites his lip for a moment and Sebastian wonders at his husband's suddenly pink ears. “Sebastienne,” Jim says. “Sebastienne Gérard.”

Sebastian chuckles. “Should I be worried that you have a type? Soldiers called Seb?”

“ _Ew_!” Jim protests. “I don't do girls and even if I did, Gérard's probably the closest thing I had to a Chris.”

“You've never said much about your street years,” Sebastian comments.

Jim grimaces. “Because my life didn't really start until I met you.”

“I'll tell Richard that,” Seb teases.

Jim pouts. “He'd agree with me. Now moving swiftly on...”

“Is having her here going to be a problem?” Sebastian asks astutely.

Jim hesitates. “No,” he says. “I'm embarrassed of what she might be able to tell you about my past, but she's good, and if I had to pick someone to look after Alex it'd be her. She can stop someone tiny from bleeding out, and… she gave me some good advice that I eventually started to listen to.”

Sebastian knows when not to push. “So, you agree that you're tiny?”

“You're going to find yourself in a time out, smart arse,” Jim warns, but he isn't annoyed.

“Fine,” Sebastian sighs. “Prefer it when you smack me.”

“Precisely why I'm not using that as a threat,” Jim smiles.

Seb feigns a long-suffering noise. “I'm really hoping I get laid when we hire these nannies, you know.”

“Me too, but I think we'll need to sleep for a week first,” Jim says.

Sebastian chuckles. “Maybe two. So, in the hopes of getting these people quicker, who is your other choice?”

“Morgan,” Jim says. “Have you met her?”

“Does she have a last name?” Sebastian teases.

“I don't think 'Morgan' is even her first name,” Jim says. “She's a clever little con artist I've worked with so she understands reading her surroundings and can play makeup and such with Alex. And she likes MMA and Krav Maga; I think she teaches kids. So she can probably be useful to Alex that way too.”

“We might want to start mixing in other circles,” Sebastian says. “Like genteel ones. Ones with less stabbings.”

Jim makes a face. “You think your mum's not already got plans for that? She's been chewing my ear about Jellybean's _coming out ball_ as if the idea isn't archaic and premature and I never want to see another bit of white fabric ever again.”

“Maybe we can get Morgan to teach Lexie some Krav Maga that she can use to incapacitate her grandmother,” Sebastian suggests.

Jim grimaces. “Confining that woman to a chair would not make our lives any easier, _and_ it would make her arms stronger.”

“So much for 'am Mammy's favourite',” Sebastian teases.

Jim twists around to stare at his husband. “This is _not_ what my accent sounds like, Sebastian Moran.”

“Well maybe not to you, 'cause you're so small your ears probably can't pick up sounds properly, but to the rest of us...” 

“Sebastian do not make me call your mother, because she is in fullblown Christening organisational mode right now, and I _will_ get you involved,” Jim warns.

“Hang on, she's what?” Seb asks.

“Oh yes,” Jim says. “Apparently my being a lapsed Catholic and you being a heathen does not excuse us from not Christening our daughter, as it is a _social event_.”

“But don't we have to be going to church or chapel or whatever regularly in order to..?”

“Oh, you would think, but your mother has _connections_ ,” Jim responds.

“Like, I don't want to promise to bring my daughter up under Christ or whatever,” says Sebastian. “I'm not a god-fearing man. Do _you_ want to bring Jellybean up in the church?”

“Do I heck,” says Jim, “but this little project of hers is distracting her from repainting our daughter's bedroom for the fortieth time so if she wants to plan a little party that might protect our child's soul so be it.”

“She's really stressing you out about the STEM thing, isn't she?”

“Sebastian, she told me I should be more preoccupied in making my daughter look pretty and she wants to get Alex's _ears_ pierced. Alex is a baby!” Jim rants.

“I'm pretty sure both needles and being splashed in the face with water are both things that make babies cry,” Sebastian says.

“Yes, yes, you had a tragic childhood, and if you push me, Sebastian, I will make you spend more time with your mother,” Jim says.

Sebastian stares at his husband.

Jim raises an eyebrow back. “What?”

“You're going to be the strict parent aren't you?”


	28. Child Magnet

Richard's only response to Severin's teasing is to hold two fingers up unwaveringly. It is the last thing Jim sees before Sebastian hurries his kitten out of the room to meet Potential Nanny No. 3.

“Are you sure they won't kill each other?” Jim asks in a stage whisper. “We still have time to phone your mum.”

“If they weren't watching Lexie I think they might do _other_ physical things with each other,” Sebastian mutters. He herds Jim out of the building.

“I don't think they know what chemistry is,” Jim muses. He twists and looks at Seb aghast, “What if they figure themselves out whilst they're _supposed_ to be looking after Alex?”

Sebastian gently continues pushing Jim towards the car. “They both think Rinn's straight. They're not going to consider to the contrary in the time it takes us to meet one woman.”

“Richie doesn't think your brother's straight; he thinks your brother's in a committed relationship,” Jim counters.

“Well he's not going to meet Irene's girlfriend in the next hour or two so they'll probably both keep it in their pants,” Seb reasons.

“Richard is perfectly capable of watching himself narrate his own show with Alex until she's old enough to repeat the lines back,” Jim points out. “Sev is bound to get bored and start chatting and there's only so long he can last before the conversation veers off into his untraditional lifestyle choices. _In front of my baby._ ”

“In front of _our_ baby and you're forgetting that my twin thinks flirting is punching someone's arm. He can't do that when yours is holding Lexie, so you can breathe,” says Sebastian.

“What if Richie gets Irene pregnant?” Jim hyperventilates. “Jellybean might not be the favourite grandchild anymore.”

Seb slows his steps and gives his husband a look, but doesn't stop walking. “Well that's fucking stupid,” the blond dismisses.

“You're right,” Jim agrees after a moment of tense consideration. “Our baby's far too perfect not too be the favourite.”

Sebastian finally gets Jim into the car. He's only half taking the brunet's ramblings seriously, but Seb's voice fills with a vague parental pride as he agrees, “Exactly.”

Jim nods slowly and leans back to put on his seatbelt.

He jerks forwards agitatedly. “What if Alex has a first when we're out and we miss it?”

“Then it'll still be a _first_ the first time _we_ see it,” Seb counters. He fastens Jim's seatbelt.

Jim's breath is panicked against Seb's throat as the blond leans over him. “What if Jellybean gets bored of watching 'The Storyteller'? What if Richie and Sev get bored and fall asleep?” 

“If our baby feels she isn't the centre of their attention for a second she'll start screaming. They'll keep their attention on her,” Sebastian presses.

Jim finally settles. “Yes, that's true.”

Sebastian kisses his husband's cheek. “Remember when you thought _I_ would be the fussy, ridiculous parent?”

“If you want our child to have siblings you can mind your mouth this second, Bash, darling,” Jim purrs. Insults have a way of changing Jim's mood, but Sebastian is uncertain whether Jim knows when he's trying to distract him and merely allows it. Regardless the blond winks.

“If all you're wanting is a blowjob to get another baby out of me you're pricing yourself too low, Sasslips,” Sebastian teases.

Jim scoffs. “You know fine well that's not what I said. Besides, do you really want to see me this highly strung times two?”

“Fuck no,” Sebastian says with a grin.

Jim kisses Seb's cheek then lightly bites the shell of the blond's ear. “We're going to be late.”

“You're going to get your pants pulled down in the back of this car,” Sebastian warns with a leer, shuddering at the sensation of Jim's hot breath on his wet skin. They haven't had much 'alone time' or energy recently.

Jim has matured quite some from the wary teenager provoking Sebastian into giving him a painful smacking in the back of a taxi all those years ago. The brunet kicks off his shoes and places his feet on the dashboard; he wriggles his toes to draw attention to his action as he knows Sebastian pretends it annoys him.

Sebastian has learned to read Jim's signals and limits much better over the years. He knows his brunet is acting up for attention, and ultimately reassurance. It's evident that Jim is unsettled, but Seb has a suspicion this isn't merely the jitters of a new parent reluctant to leave their baby for long.

Something is off.

Sebastian lightly slaps Jim's feet off of the dash and gives the socked toes an affectionate squeeze before allowing them to drop. “Watch it, brat.”

Jim pouts and Seb is transfixed for a brief, blissful moment by his husband's childish pout. They have both aged, but certain mannerisms always seem to make Jim look just as he did when Sebastian fell in love with the scruffy brat. 

Jim widens his eyes at his husband's obvious, warm stare and the mouth of the brunet twitches into a smile. “Developed a thing for my feet now have you, you deviant?” Jim mocks, understanding the look perfectly well.

Seb's expression instantly changes. His lips spread wide in a predatory smile. “If anyone wants teased about their fetishes, Kitten…”

Jim presses his lips together. “Shut up,” he responds in a pitch that does a pretty accurate job of mimicking a child thirty years his junior.

Sebastian's blue eyes sparkle. “If you're a good boy for me I'll give you some good snuggles and indulge the _fuck_ out of your praise kink once we've put Lexie to bed for the night.”

Jim nods slowly. He almost smiles, but then his brow creases and he says, “Sebby, we're going to be late.”

Sebastian scoffs and persuades the car to roar into life. He gets into gear with a grimace of concentration, but smirks at his husband as the car obediently makes its way out of its parking spot. He had been unable to drive for months whilst his wounds were healing, but he has no intention of driving like an invalid.

Jim relaxes into his seat a little as they make their way through the traffic in good time. “Hey, Tiger?”

Sebastian is certain his smile is tellingly goofy with pride at his recovered skill in driving, but he turns to spare a glance at Jim anyway. “Yes, sweetheart?”

Jim's posture is still a little nervous, but he gives his husband a playful smirk. “What if I'm _not_ a good boy?”

Sebastian grins and waits until the next red light to give Jim's nearest thigh a possessive squeeze. “Then I'll teach you the error of your ways,” the blond says cheerfully, “and _then_ I'll put you to bed for some serious spooning.”

Jim chortles. He watches fondly as Sebastian takes his hand away and drives on with a smile that makes Jim love him dearly. 

Eventually they make it through London's congested roads to the restaurant where they are to meet their prospective nanny, Morgan.

Who doesn't know the nature of the meeting. Jim knows Seb will probably tell him off afterwards for this, but the little Irishman is unconcerned. He has other things on his mind.

Morgan is sitting at a corner table with a good vantage of the restaurant and access to cover. She stands as the husbands approach. Sebastian notes she is a couple of inches shorter than Jim, not especially short for a female, but muscular enough that she probably weighs more than his brunet does. 

“Morgan, this is my husband Sebastian. Seb, Morgan,” Jim introduces.

Morgan fumbles for an instant as she begins to hold out her left hand then recovers. She's young, but there's something about the gesture that makes Sebastian ask her, “Scouts?”

She gives a half smile and nods. “Marylebone. You?”

“Oxford. A few of them,” Sebastian says without mentioning he got kicked out of 'a few' for various bits of naughtiness. 

Morgan looks like she understands regardless. “I moved around a lot as a kid. I remember having to unstitch my district.”

She's barely more than a kid now. Sebastian estimates Morgan to be in her early twenties but there's a discrepancy between the confidence in her stance and the insipid openness in her gaze that makes it a little difficult for him to fix her maturity down.

“Me too,” he says. “Grew up in Iran as a Cub.”

“Oh, one of my first Jamborees was there,” Morgan comments, which makes Seb try to work out possible years in his head. She continues, “S'different now though of course. The global climate.”

“Wasn't much better when I was a Beaver,” Sebastian says. “A World Jamboree got cancelled in the seventies and my Akila never stopped going on about it.”

“They had women in the seventies? And there?” Morgan asks curiously.

“Not girl _Scouts_ no.” Seb muses, “I think that came in in the nineties. It was a lot of mums who organised us though.”

“I joined Scouts to get away from women,” Morgan chuckles.

“Ah, bloody Brownies, eh?” Sebastian comments. Morgan makes an exaggerated noise of displeasure as though the femininity of her pastel-hued hair does not stand starkly against her distaste for her own gender.

“I was a tomboy and all the older Guides and Owls were miserable old cows,” Morgan laments, dropping back down onto her chair. “I didn't last.”

“The people in your group can make or break it at that age,” Sebastian agrees wisely. He picks out a seat and continues talking. Jim watches the pair of them interestedly and joins them with a softly amused smile. He is suddenly hearing things he actually didn't know about his husband's past due to the common background Seb and Morgan share.

And there are some things Jim knows about Morgan's youth that he would be amused to see Seb respond to.

The waiter arrives to take their order before they get to those topics. Morgan leans back and smiles. “So what did you want to talk to me about anyway? I presume this isn't a social visit.”

Jim scoffs. “You could make friends anywhere.”

Morgan's eyes glitter. “Yes, but it's satisfying when I'm getting paid for it. What do you need?”

“Work, work, work,” Jim drawls. “Anyone would think you cannot stand to be idle.”

Morgan rolls her eyes. “I'm putting the kids through their Zodiac badge. I don't deserve free time because I clearly don't know how to rest like a normal human.”

Jim looks her over very carefully. “How do you feel about babies?”

A muscle near Morgan's mouth tenses as she swallows hard. “I don't kill babies, Jim.”

Besides him Sebastian has barely stifled a flinch. “Not what I was asking,” Jim says dryly.

Morgan breathes out through her mouth. “Prefer to eat them live, do you?” she teases weakly. “What then- Oh. Oh, _no_ , mate.”

Sebastian watches the interaction dubiously. “What do you think we're asking you?”

“I can't be your surrogate,” Morgan says. “The shop front's there but the building's been a long time closed for business.”

Jim laughs aloud. “If I didn't always have eyebags you might have been able to tell we already have the baby.”

Morgan rests her forehead in her hand. “You stole a baby?”

Jim tries to ignore the look Seb gives him. “No.”

“Oh, you bought one. Wait, you _grew one_?” Morgan exclaims in a whisper.

“Who do you think I am? Yes, I grew one in a very nice human my husband's mother provided,” Jim says.

Morgan gives him a skeptical look and Sebastian's expression isn't much more impressed. “You've never struck me as the breeding sort. Family oriented sure, but _a baby_?” Morgan says.

“Fate's little surprises,” Jim begins to say flippantly. “Wait, what do you mean I've always struck you as being _family orientated_? I-”

“Loyal, likes attention, obsessed with your husband...” Morgan lists quickly before Jim can work himself up.

Sebastian casts his husband an amused look.

Before Jim can formulate a response he is perturbed to find a small child carefully approaching their table. Sebastian notes the way Morgan makes eye contact with the child, smiles, and leans down welcomingly.

The child holds out a pastel-coloured soft animal and waves it shyly at her. Morgan gamely feigns a gasp of excitement and rattles off the name of the character as though familiar with whatever cartoon the merchandise hails from. 

Jim purses his lips dubiously as Morgan shows no objection to the child approaching her further and batting her softly with the stuffed animal.

“That thing's probably as germ infested as public transport,” Jim says archly as the child shoves a limb of the toy into its mouth and chews slackly.

“Kids need exposure to germs to develop a tolerance,” Morgan says without looking up from smiling at the toddler.

The toddler's father approaches apologetically and tries to coax his child away. Morgan reassures him calmly and doesn't bat an eye when the child claims her lap or clumsily introduces her face to the damp end of the fluffy toy. She holds her arms carefully around the toddler and allows it to pat the tabletop curiously whilst almost simultaneously moving away the utensils and breakables. She reassures the father that he can sit with his wife nearby without feeling the pressure to hover or remove the baby (young enough that Jim cannot tell its gender).

Sebastian watches the husband instead. He is uncertain how to process seeing an active parent in public with a beard and tie. A tie crooked from the fat little fist of his toddler.

An attentive father is a concept Sebastian is still learning to process. He watches Morgan play with the thrilled child and its semi-drowned toy.

He recollects the joy of independence he learnt in Scouts and the delight at escaping from his father through an accepted pursuit.

It is still difficult for Sebastian to understand his feelings about his father's congratulations, or indeed many things related to his relationship with his father, but something in Seb shifts having seen a normal father in the wild.

He suddenly realises that he believes he _can_ manage to be a good parent.

Two more children approach Morgan once the toddler and _her_ family leave. The older child clutches his sibling's hand confidently and pipes up, “'Scuse me.”

Morgan smiles easily. “Hello, lovelies.”

“My sister thinks your hair's pretty,” the young boy announces. The younger child at his side smiles shyly.

Morgan responds with warmth and enthusiasm. Long before the end of the lunch Sebastian and Jim are in agreement that they want Morgan in Alexdrina's life. There is an easiness with Morgan's affection and attention to children that neither experienced in their own upbringing or quite know yet how to emanate. Jim in particular still has little fondness for children, with Alex being his sole exception, but he is certain it will be best for his daughter's development to have someone in her life who can teach her how to enjoy the company of children. He certainly hated them when he was one. He wants better for Jellybean.

“I've never much subscribed to bad guys always seeming like bad guys, but that Morgan didn't seem like a Crocodile girl to me,” Sebastian comments when he and Jim are back in the car.

“She's a complicated little thing,” Jim says.

Sebastian grins at his husband calling _anyone_ little. “I wonder who she reminds me of...”

Jim rolls his eyes. “She could give you a run for your money, old man. Did you _see_ her hands? She's been training more than you.”

“I tanned my wrists less than a year ago,” Sebastian responds half-exasperatedly. He blinks quickly with the sudden realisation that he can can now joke about the subject without feeling uneasy.

Jim yanks some slack for his seatbelt and leans over quickly to kiss Seb's jaw. He falls back against the seat and notices they are almost home.

Jim's stomach begins to twist.

Sebastian notices his brunet's sudden quiet and observes his husband carefully on the last of the journey. “You need anything, love?” Seb asks.

Jim wrings his hands. “Just a head full of thoughts,” he says.

Sebastian nuzzles him during the lift ride to their home.

There are three adult voices coming from the apartment.


	29. Doctor Who?

Richard and Severin take Alexdrina to a window to watch her parents get into the car, although she is young enough that the scene below beyond the glass is meaningless to her. 

Severin Moran's first instinct upon hearing the lift mechanism in his brother's Conduit Street apartment after he and Richie are certain their brothers are gone would be of little surprise to Sebastian. Severin fetches a gun and sends Richard towards the stairs, out of harm's way should he be forced to fire the weapon.

Richie curls his lip but stands anyway. “It's probably just your mum.”

“All the more reason to be armed,” Sev jokes. “Bedroom.”

Richard's expression flickers for an instant before he carries Alex towards the stairs.

This is when a woman steps out of the lift with a key to the flat twirling on a ring around her finger. Her brows rise to her hairline as she observes the actor and the child in his arms.

“You were serious about the _baby_ , Jim?” she says in a dazed manner.

Severin clears his throat. “ _Who_ are you?”

The woman seems unfazed by the gun. “Hey, you must be the husband, right? Jim wasn't joking when he said he was dating a huge blond. I'm Gérard.”

Severin feels oddly uncomfortable at being mistaken for his brother in this way. “Gérard?” He looks the stranger over. “That medic Jim was talking about?”

“Guilty,” Gérard replies.

“...Can I see some ID please?” Severin asks.

Gérard blinks then laughs lightly, unoffended. “I didn't realise you were quite _this_ protective,” she says wryly. If she notices the way Richard shields Alexdrina with his body as Gérard rustles out her driver's licence she doesn't mention it.

Severin feels less unease at Gérard's presence when she laughs. It is a good sound; dry but warm. Her pink driver's licence shows a younger but accurate likeness of a woman with dark hair twisted into a severe bun barely visible at the base of her neck. Gérard's hairstyle has not changed but there are deep lines around her eyes and vertical creases in her cheeks which stretch out smoothly over her thick cheekbones.

“Satisfied?” Gérard asks.

Severin slowly hands the identification back over. “I suppose. Where did you get that key?”

Gérard raises a brow pockmarked with faint scars from what must once have been an impressive number of eyebrow bars. She indicates Richard. “Who do you think?”

Severin meets Richie's gaze to communicate his dubiety. “D'you mean Jim or..?”

“Well I hardly mean the baby, do I?” Gérard scoffs. She juts her chin at Richard. “Feel free to jump in here.”

The brunet swallows. “I think...”

Gérard catches sight of the television. “Jesus Christ. Is that you?”

Richard and Severin glance over at _The Storyteller_. “Uh, yeah,” says Richie. He opens his mouth to explain but closes it warily upon seeing the uneasy expression which forms abruptly on Gérard's face.

Richie had turned his head. Gérard stills and stares not at his face when he turns back to her, but at where something significant should have been. _And wasn't_. “Your scar healed up,” she says in disbelief.

Richard blinks quickly then laughs in relief. “Oh. That, no-”

Gérard approaches with a swiftness not expected for her age and eyes the back of Richie's head intently. Richard twists away before she can push aside his thick hair.

“Have you cloned yourself, you crazy little bastard?” Gérard asks. She sounds more exasperated than disturbed.

Severin laughs aloud. Richard takes a step back and glowers softly. “I'm Jim's _brother_.”

“Oh,” says Gérard. “Oh.”

No one mentions that it seemed far more likely to her that Jim had cloned himself than possessed a sibling.

“And I'm Jim's husband's brother,” Severin adds. 

“But the kid's their's,” Richie says.

Gérard stares down at the babe ruefully. “Alex, right?”

The uncles nod. “So, Jim gave you a key,” Severin says. “That's big.”

Gérard makes a face. “He's a suspicious little shit, isn't he? I suppose if you patch up the brat enough times he starts expecting house visits.”

Severin and Richard purse their lips in unison. All doubt they had that Gérard knew Jim now evaporate.

“So, how's the babysitting lark?” Gérard asks conversationally. She wanders through to the kitchen space and counts the cupboards absently before finding the mugs. “Either of you want a coffee?”

Richie and Severin exchange glances then follow. “Sure,” Richard says. 

Severin shakes his head. “I'm alright,” he says. He shoves his gun down the back of his jeans and holds out his arms for Alexdrina. Richard pulls himself onto the counter and sits comfortably as Gérard masterfully navigates the complex controls of Jim's expensive coffee maker. 

“So how long have you two been together?” Gérard asks.

Richard has to take the baby back as Severin chokes so hard in discomfort. 

The blond has not fully recovered by the time his brother and Jim return home, but Richard withholds his teasing. Gérard eyes the pair knowingly and chooses not to mention that Richie's cheeks have been a fetching shade of pink all that time.

Sebastian's heart races upon seeing a stranger in his home with his baby. The recognition on Jim's face is no comfort when Jim greys.

“Evening,” the former criminal mastermind mumbles.

“Good to see you, Shrimp,” says Gérard.

Sebastian is so startled he doesn't even laugh, although Richard makes up for the lack with the volume of his own sudden burst of mirth. Severin is tempted to snort too, but doesn't quite dare. Jim has never seemed an especially reasonable man to him.

Jim says nothing at first but walks towards where the others are on the couch. He hugs Gérard awkwardly. Neither the embrace nor Jim's woodenness seem to surprise the woman. “How have you been?” she asks.

“Had a baby,” Jim says. He bites his lip, painfully aware of all eyes on them. “I wasn't expecting you so soon.”

“Little Mister No Feelings contacted me to say he's had a baby and you didn't think I'd drop everything to come see you?” Gérard scoffs.

Jim's lips twitch. “You didn't believe me?”

“Might've thought you'd had a few too many knocks to the head,” Gérard teases. “She really looks like you though. She's beautiful.”

Jim smiles and cannot help but glance to Alexdrina. “She's perfect.”

Sebastian joins the others and sits at his brother's side. Gérard interests him. She stitched up Arty's head when he was seventeen or even sixteen, and has kept in touch with the brat right into Jim's adulthood without Sebastian ever meeting her. 

She seems to have a genuine, if restrained, affection for Jim. She's older than Sebastian imagined, somewhere between him and Chris. There's something cold about her posture and expression, but it is thawed in the centre. She is reserved but tender as she takes Jellybean and Sebastian gets it. Streetkid Jim wasn't used to affection and he would have ran from a nurturing mummy figure who wanted to stitch up his wounds (physical or otherwise).

Gérard grins softly at Lexie and wordlessly checks the baby's vision and general wellbeing. Sebastian feels momentarily insulted until he sees the proud smile Gérard gives Jim. “She's in really good health,” the woman comments.

A flash of bright pleasure covers Jim's face before he calms his features. “I was hardly going to leave her in a dark cupboard and water her occasionally,” he responds dryly.

“I'm a little surprised you actually knew babies need more than that, Shrimp,” Gérard teases fondly.

Jim sniffs in playful distaste but Sebastian can see his brunet is still glowing from Gérard's praise of Alexdrina's wellbeing. “I can do research,” Jim says. “Besides. I… have a family now. To help me… with Alex.”

Gérard gazes intently at Jim as she nods. “I'm glad.” She winks. “You'd probably have gotten yourself into some disaster or other by now otherwise.”

Jim opens his mouth to respond but stops as he catches sight of Sebastian watching him. “Seb takes good care of me,” Jim tells Gérard.

Sebastian's lips twitch and he gives Jim a loving, loyal look. “Someone's got to, _shrimp_.”

Jim splutters. Sparing a moment to glare warningly at both Richard and Severin as well as his husband, Jim huffs, “She gets special dispensation because she's known me for most of my life. None of the rest of you get a pass.”

“Um hello, we shared a womb,” Richie points out.

“Yes so you had better be nice to me,” Jim responds.

“I'm your husband, I'll do as I please,” says Sebastian. He swallows as Jim arches one brow in slow warning. The blond continues, “And obviously what pleases me is _whatever makes you happy, sweetheart_.”

“ _Whipped_ ,” Severin coughs into his hand. 

His brother turns to glare. “Do I need to mention what your partner does for a living?”

“I don't get the joke,” Richard murmurs as Sev blushes hard, not because of Irene's occupation as a pro Domme, but because he feels suddenly very awkward about _Richie_ picturing those skills filtering through into the bedroom.

“What's wrong with being an actor?” Gérard asks the room. She crinkles her nose at Richie. “Did you have a saucy role?”

Everyone is quiet for a moment.

“I'm not actually 'Rin's partner,” Richie squeaks.

“Oh,” says Gérard. “Sorry, my mistake. You just seem so comfortable around each other.”

Severin and Richard smile uneasily and try to chuckle. They will shoot each other glances for the rest of the night.

Jim takes Sebastian aside under the pretence of making more coffee. “What do you think of her? As-”

“I like her,” Sebastian mutters. “Mum's quite full on and Chris isn't home much. Morgan's quite soft. I think Gérard would be a good balance. She seems sensible. Efficient. And look at the colour she's turned my brother.”

“I mean if those two fuck I'm deducting points from Gérard,” Jim says with a shake of his head.

“Depending on the embarrassing things you say she has on you I think I might give her more points as I get to know her,” Sebastian teases lightly.

“Just because she's a medic don't think you're safe if you push me, Tiger,” Jim drawls back.

Despite having company Sebastian pulls Jim close. Dipping his lips to the shorter man's ear, Sebastian whispers, “Oh Kitten, you should have told me if you just wanted to play doctor...”


	30. A Short Time C*mming Is A Long Time In Coming

Jim is in an odd mood after Gérard departs. As Sebastian wonders how to best broach the subject Richard takes Alexdrina from the blond's healed arms and hands her to Severin. 

“The two of you, get up,” Richie orders.

Sebastian and Jim look at him and each other in confusion at the actor's firm tone. Sebastian is the first to obey but Richard's raised brows motivate Jim to uncurl from where he had been stewing on the couch.

“Jackets and go,” Richie says.

Jim raises a brow. “What?”

“You heard. Clearly you two need to talk, or whatever, so I'll watch the baby overnight and you both can sleep over in your new place,” Richard decides.

Sebastian and Jim exchange further looks. Jim seems vulnerable and shrugs his shoulders minutely. “Do you think you can manage overnight?” Seb asks the actor.

Richie nods. “I'll be fine. You two do your thing.”

“Hey, I can call Irene and stay to help,” Severin offers. “It'll be easier with both of us.”

Richie looks at the blond. He still feels awkward about Gérard's assumption about their relationship (both men do) but Sev's help would be appreciated. “If that's okay?”

“S'cool, s'family stuff,” Severin shrugs. “She won't mind.”

Sebastian looks between his brother and Jim's brother cautiously. He is wary to leave the pair alone, but Richie is right: Jim needs one-on-one attention tonight.

“Are you sure you two can manage?” Seb asks akwardly.

“It's one night; it's no problem,” Richie says dismissively. “It's not like you don't have colour-coded diagrams stuck to the cabinets for all baby-related routines.”

Sebastian's lips barely manage to twitch at the teasing as he settles his dubious gaze on Severin. “What about you, jarhead, think you can manage?” By which Seb means, ' _Can you_ behave _yourself_?'

Sev grimaces. His pink ears above Lexie make it clear he knows precisely what Sebastian means but merely insists, “We'll be just dandy.”

Something in Severin's voice catches the baby girl's attention and she switches her firm grip of Sev's shirt to a sudden fistful of chest chair. Severin barely winces but draws her closer to ease the pressure of her hold, inwardly blaming himself disturbing her with an edge of gruffness to his tone.

Jim's gaze flickers to Alexdrina as the unsettled brunet focuses on the conversation around him. He doesn't typically like leaving Alex overnight -or for very long at all- but Jim concedes to the truth they can all see: he's shaken, and needs Seb to lick his re-opened wounds for a while.

One of Sebastian's large hands closes over Jim's own slim offering. It's warm and comforting, and it grounds Jim's jangling nerves. He's safe. Seb is safety.

Sebastian looks down at his little husband and smiles reassuringly. “You sit here, sweetheart. I'll pack us some stuff.”

Jim's expression flickers before he gives a small nod and curls up on the couch again. “Okay,” he says softly, and follows Seb's ascent upstairs with the nervous attention of a barely domesticated former feral kitten. Severin looks the pale brunet over then exchanges a communicative glance with Richie. The bigger man carefully hands Alexdrina to the actor and moves closer to Jim as Sebastian jogs up to the bedroom.

Severin opens his arms and raises his brows at Jim. “C'mere, then.”

Jim raises his own brows right back and gives the blond a mildly scandalised expression. “I don't need a _cuddle_ , Severin,” the brunet protests.

Sev snorts and keeps his arms spread. “Yeah, yeah, you're the sort of psychopath who drugs people to attend your wedding, but you've also been married to my brother for long enough that I _know_ you. Come here and don't make a big thing of it.”

Jim stares hard at Severin for a moment. Although the blond brothers share a great deal of physical similarities Jim has never really thought of the pair as especially similar. Sebastian is wicked and kind and so knowing and… Jim's soulmate, simply put. Sev has always just been Sebby's brother, familiar and someone Jim trusts by extension of Sebastian's own trust, but not someone Jim has many personal dealings with.

Severin's _knowing_ look is not so very far away from Sebastian's, and Jim lowers his dark gaze as he admits to himself that it has its own power. He has never really thought of Sev as being as emotionally intelligent (or indeed as _intelligent_ ) as Seb but perhaps that assessment was somewhat unfair. 

Jim has never really looked into Severin's depths.

Sighing, Jim gives a reluctant nod and leans forward a little. Arms easily as strong as Sebastian's used to be pull him close and Jim reluctantly submits to the contact, feeling unnerved and yet strangely at peace. Sev runs his fingers softly up and down Jim's back like the brunet has seen Chris do for Jellybean.

“This help?” Severin murmurs.

“Surprisingly,” Jim mutters.

Sev merely chuckles in response. His thick fingers continue to ease lines up and down Jim's torso and the brunet finds himself settling a little into the contact. Jim glances around for Richie's gaze (and half-expected judgement) with a feeling of embarrassment but finds Richard absorbed in _The Storyteller_ instead. Apparently Richie finds nothing odd or of note in this behaviour.

Sebastian's expression widens with surprise when he returns downstairs to find Jim cuddled a little stiffly into Severin's shoulder. Sev stops rubbing Jim's back and pats it casually. “Seb's packed your stuff, mate.”

 _Mate_. Sebastian knows Jim well enough to understand the flicker of emotion in his husband's gaze before Jim awkwardly pulls away. The brunet was never particularly good at making friends (which didn't matter terribly when he was close to Richard but was later an absence keenly felt in adolescence) and Seb understands the offhand comment has unnerved Jim further.

Sebastian reaches out a hand for his husband. “Come on, mo chroí, let's get you home and into bed.”

“Spare us the details,” Sev teases fondly.

Sebastian snorts and turns to give Lexie a goodbye kiss. Jim moves towards Richie to do the same and Seb makes eye contact with Sev.

' _Thanks for soothing him_.'

Severin makes a calm, dismissive gesture. He looks past Sebastian to check their silent conversation is unobserved then raises his brows softly. ' _We're family._ '

Sebastian smiles and wraps his fingers around Jim's, other hand gripping a bag strap. “Ready to go, love?”

Jim gives Alexdrina one more kiss then nods. The slight brunet moves close to Sebastian's hip in that familiar, childish lack of personal space that Sebastian loves from his once so touch-phobic lover.

Jim nuzzles into Sebastian's chest in the lift and keeps his thighs splayed wide in the passenger seat of their car so that Seb's fingers constantly brush his leg when reaching for the handbrake or gearstick. Sebastian gives Jim's right quad an affectionate squeeze when he parks up.

“Welcome home again, sweetheart,” the blond drawls.

Jim gives him a half-embarrassed smile. “Love you.”

Sebastian unclips his seatbelt and leans over to kiss Jim firmly. “I love you too, Kitten,” he tells his brunet firmly.

The former rent boy beams but after a few seconds the smile trembles, weak and watery. Sebastian throws the driver seat back and twists to pull his slight husband close. “Nothing to worry about, baby; I got you.”

Jim buries his nose into Sebastian's shoulder. “I'm not really worried about anything,” the brunet says quietly, “I just… A lot's changed. I was so different back then.”

“You've got us now,” says Sebastian.

“Yes,” Jim agrees. “But I… I never imagined my life would be like this. Especially back when Gérard was the only person looking out for me… It's a big change.”

“Seeing her again a bit much for you?” Seb asks.

“Not exactly,” says Jim. “Obviously we kept in touch, but having her in the same room as all of you… It really brought home to me how far everything's come, you know?”

Sebastian kisses Jim's forehead. “Yeah, I understand, love.”

“I think it might be good for me, having her around,” Jim says softly. “I thought she would bring useful skills with her but I think… Having her see me happy is kind of healing something? Does that make sense?”

“It does, mo chroí,” Sebastian agrees.

Jim gives another weak smile. “But it also… Reminds me how bad things used to be? Seeing Richie was a bit the same at first, but I was so grateful to have him back that it faded pretty fast… for the most part. Seeing Gérard without getting hurt first was… It was just different. Made some things feel fresh.”

“That makes sense,” Sebastian reassures.

Jim runs a hand through his hair. “Do you mind if I'm clingy with you tonight?”

“Arty, when do I ever mind if you're clingy with me?” Seb responds.

Jim smiles shyly. “I know. I _do_. I'm just… I didn't used to be, you know? Clingy. Until you.”

“That's because you didn't feel safe enough to be. Things are so different now,” says Sebastian. “So many people love you.”

Jim's lips twitch. “Yeah, I'm adjusting to that. I don't hate it.”

“Of course you don't hate it,” Seb says, eyes twinkling. “You've got a little squalling Jellybean, and a handsome, loving husband, and a loving brother, and a doting harpy of a mother, and a sister-in-law that picks you up like you're twelve and jokes with you, and a brother-in-law who'd point a gun at a man of God for you. You're pretty spoiled, sweetheart.”

Jim smiles and nods. “And it all started with you,” he whispers.

Sebastian rolls his eyes with a soft smile. “Like I wasn't smitten from the first time I clapped eyes on you? I had no idea how much you'd make my life worth living, Arty.”

“I had no idea I'd mean anything to you,” says Jim. He squeezes Sebastian's hand and smiles meekly. “Shall we go inside?”

“Yes, baby,” Sebastian agrees. He twists again to kiss Jim at length, then picks up their bag and leads Jim into their new, mostly-decorated home.

It doesn't smell lived-in yet, but it does smell of fresh paint and newness. It's _theirs_ in a way Conduit Street never had been, as most of the aesthetic decisions here they have made for themselves. (Most, of course, not all, because Mrs Moran is a law unto herself.)

Jim takes Sebastian's hand. He likes it here, and knows Sebastian does too. Conduit Street has been home for so many years, but they both know that this place will be home too. It has that feel.

Sebastian picks Jim up. It is becoming less and less difficult as his arms heal and his chest broadens. The brunet curls into Seb as he is carried to their bedroom. The big blond puts Jim down carefully on their new bed and lightly tosses down the bag.

Jim leans up on his knees to unzip it and peers in curiously. 

Sebastian pulls out one of Jim's onesies. “I figured you'd want this since you've been feeling out of sorts. We can get cozy and cuddle up.”

Jim purses his lips and roots around in the bag. “Don't get me wrong, Tiger, I love you for that, but… Don't you want to make the most of our being alone together?”

Sebastian shrugs and kisses the top of Jim's head as the brunet pulls out a cylinder of lubricant. “I didn't want to presume,” the blond says.

Jim leans back and strips off. “Please, Sebby, please presume.”

Sebastian bites his lip as under his gaze Jim's cock swells and twitches. The blond lets out a breath he barely noticed he was holding and says, “It's been a while.”

“I know,” Jim says. He moves the bag onto the floor and shrugs his permanently thin shoulders. “I might not last long… but I just want to be close to you, you know?”

Sebastian dips and presses a strong kiss into Jim's jaw. “Of course.” He helps the brunet out of his outer clothing tenderly and dabs his lips gently over Jim's neck and shoulder. “I'm probably going to be quick off of the mark on the first round too. I've missed being with you like this.”

Jim relaxes into the affectionate contact. He reaches up to curl a slim arm over his husband's broad neck and holds Seb close. “I love you so much.”

Sebastian nuzzles what he can reach of Jim's arm and curls one of his own around the slight dip under the slim brunet's ribs. “I love you too, Arty. How do you want this? On your back facing each other?”

Jim grins wryly. “Am I that predictable?”

“Never, I just figured you'd want to see me and feel close,” Sebastian responds with another soft kiss. “A bit of comfort as well as some release, you know?”

“And you let me call _you_ the girl in our relationship?” Jim says ruefully.

“I like it when you tease me,” Sebastian admits candidly. “And besides, if I was being really macho I'd push for us to do that thing where I cross my legs and you bounce in my lap, but that gives you way too much control over my orgasm and I wanna defend my masculine ego, alright?”

Jim laughs lightly. “Oh, Tiger. Don't worry, you might not be in your twenties anymore but I'm sure you've still got more than one in the tank after this wait.”

“Yeah, after thirty minutes of sleep,” Sebastian murmurs.

“You can have twenty,” Jim says, reaching up to mouth Seb's earlobe.

“Mm. Um, I'll try,” Sebastian mutters, suddenly embarrassingly close to panting. The heat and the wetness and just the _touch_ of Jim's mouth on his skin is thrilling after so long without 'alone time' together.

“Besides, you _are_ the woman in the bedroom,” Jim purrs tauntingly.

“H-Urgh… How do you figure that?” Seb gasps.

“Girls like to talk about _feelings_ afterwards and don't just go to damned sleep,” Jim replies. He nibbles the shell of Sebastian's ear playfully.

Seb pushes Jim a little out of reach. “If I didn't make you talk about your feelings you'd throw a wobbly from bottling things up, so who is the irrational woman?”

“Who just stopped himself getting kissed and sucked to prove a point?” Jim asks with an arch grin.

Sebastian sighs. “Fair point. Let me get my bottoms off and we can get _right back_ to the ear kissing.”

Jim leans backwards on his elbows as Seb undresses. “I'm thinking we skip more kissing and get to the petting. We've got time for plenty kissing afterwards.”

Sebastian smirks. “Eager, pet?”

Jim rolls his eyes. “It's been forever and I miss your big cock. But you've been warned about calling me that, moron.”

Sebastian frees himself from the rest of his clothing and throws himself down on top of the brunet, managing just fine to bear his weight on his scarred arms. A glistening trail of precum curves over both of their thighs. “Is that so, sweetheart?” the blond says with glittering eyes. “I thought it was _twink_ you objected to...”

Jim stiffens and glares, pursed lips giving away his wry amusement. “Sebastian Moran, I am not going to put out if you call me that.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes playfully. “I reckon if I lick this neglected little hole here you'll let me call you whatever I like. You're as desperate as I am.”

Jim gasps and opens his legs as Seb's fingers probe him gently. “I might be desperate, but I'm stubborn. You know this.”

Sebastian bows and kisses Jim's opening. “You are, baby, but you also don't usually have to go this long without sex.”

Jim sighs, squirms, and grabs Seb's skull to hold him there. “Less talking.”

Sebastian laps Jim in broad, regular licks that make the smaller man's toes clench. “No, there'll be talking. I'm not letting you get what you want too easily.”

Jim grasps Seb harder and pushes in pointed insistence. “No teasing; neither of us can cope with it tonight. Just do what we know you are _very_ good at.”

“Ohhh, are you _sure_ you don't want me to drag this out?” Sebastian teases, pulling back from the smaller man's grip easily.

“If you don't eat me, stretch me and _fuck. Me. Into. The. Mattress._ I'll cut off your tongue and keep it in my bedside drawer,” Jim grumbles.

Seb laughs and spanks Jim's thigh affectionately. “Greedy little brat. Fine.” Before Jim can think of anything clever to say in response Sebastian returns to the quivering man's wet hole and laves it more possessively with his tongue. Jim moans and curls his legs around Seb's broad shoulders.

Sebastian adds a first finger slowly, paying close attention to Jim's whimpering. “This okay, mo chroí?”

“You're _not_ going to be okay if you don't push that past the next knuckle,” Jim retorts.

“Kitten, if you don't want me to gag you, don't sass me right now,” Sebastian scolds without harshness. “You're really _tight_ after so long and I'm not going to hurt you.”

“I _like_ it when you hurt me,” growls Jim impatiently.

“ _I_ like it when you're not too sore to stick my dick in,” Seb answers unsympathetically. He adds lubricant to his saliva-slick fingers and finally does as Jim asks.

The little brunet groans and arches his hips. Sebastian kisses an expanse of pale thigh with just enough teeth to make Jim squeak, then sets about preparing him properly. By the time Seb can crook four fingers in and out of Jim's stretched hole satisfactorily the little consulting criminal has returned to a string of threats, not all of them lucid.

“Missed this?” Sebastian purrs in playful question. His composure is dwindling as Jim writhes and gasps from his touch, but Jim is already too close to the edge to notice.

“You better get inside me _soon_ , Sebby, or I'm going to spill all over your face before you've even dicked me,” Jim finds the presence of mind to state.

Sebastian doesn't need told _that_ twice. He tugs Jim's balls just enough to persuade the brunet to hold back then slicks up and lines up. Jim makes an ecstatic noise as Sebastian enters that makes the head of Seb's cock throb so much that he slips right back out. Sebastian groans and repositions himself before Jim can exclaim any creative chastisement, quite silencing the brunet by burying himself to the hilt.

“Fuck… I love you,” Jim mutters at last.

Sebastian moves in and out slowly. He breathes through his nose knowing that he's not going to last long at all after the wait and then all that teasing. “You want my hand, Kit, or are you gonna cum on my cock?” the blond asks.

An already mewling Jim shifts position wantonly. “I'm already close...” he whispers. “Lean down and kiss me?”

“Gladly, baby,” Sebastian replies. He has to bite his lip at the sensation of shifting closer, but quickly moves his mouth to Jim's. Jim devours him in desperate, messy, exuberant hunger, and Sebastian loves the little man a bit more for it.

“Fucking… love you,” Jim whispers between kisses.

Sebastian rocks his hips into Jim faithful to the way the brunet bucks in need. “I love you… too… sweeth...eart. So… much...” the blond promises.

Slowly Jim's kisses become sloppy bites and short nips. His nails scrabble against Sebastian's thick arms and Seb is unsurprised when the brunet's hips flail with further enthusiasm. “Sebby, Sebby, Tiger, I… ah… Fuck, I… You, ah...”

Sebastian chuckles although he doesn't feel in much of a position to feel superior. Jim's quivering, frantic, babbling, gasping, grasping, _squealing_ little self is impossible not to respond to.

“I'm close too, Arty...” Sebastian whispers. “Cum for me, baby. I'll follow you...”

And for perhaps the first time in his life, Seb's dark-eyed little brat does exactly as he is told. Being the loyal husband he is, Sebastian is true to his word and heats Jim's chest not long afterwards.

“ _Love._ You,” the little brunet declares, then blacks out. Sebastian chuckles weakly and snuggles in.


	31. Hungry

Sebastian startles awake a number of times throughout the night. His subconsciousness seems unable to accept that Jellybean is not a few steps away demanding to be fed or otherwise attended to. After each uncomfortable, disorientating moment of remembering that his daughter is being cared for elsewhere, Seb slumps back uneasily on the mattress. It is nice to be able to lie back down and just rest for once, but his limbs stay tense. They are poised to leap out of bed the instant Lexie stirs and the distance between this bedroom and Conduit Street does not seem to have any impact on Sebastian's body.

It is a strange experience, this waking, unwakeful, restless restfulness. Sebastian stares out into the murky grey of the dark bedroom and wonders whether he will always feel like this. He has heard that parents stay awake all night no matter their child's age.

Sebastian wonders what the future will be like. He pictures he will have an even more sleepless night the first time Lexie has a sleepover outwith her family. He blinks and chews his lip in the dark as he ponders Alexdrina being away for a week or so on some school trip.

Sebastian squints at his husband's torso and drags Jim close. The warmth and the familiar bundle of bones brings Seb comfort and the blond breathes deeply from the back of Jim's neck. The soft smell of sweat and shampoo is comfortingly _Arty_ but Sebastian still feels somewhat adrift.

Jim grumbles softly and uncoils in reluctant wakefulness. He blinks repeatedly before leaning up on his narrow elbows and observing Seb. “Are you okay?” the brunet asks.

Sebastian huddles close and nods. His chin is against Jim's hot shoulder as the big blond responds, “Kind of… S'just weird without Jellybean.”

Jim doesn't mock his husband. Instead the smaller man stretches out then reaches for his phone. He glances at the screen then puts it aside. “Everything's fine.”

“They texted you?” Sebastian asks.

The corners of Jim's lips twitch wryly. “I texted Richie earlier. He said everything was fine, and that he'd call me if anything was wrong.”

“Before we went to bed?” Sebastian murmurs. He shifts into a more comfortable position.

Jim shakes his head briefly. “I texted before her last feed.”

Sebastian stares at his husband for a beat. Seb does not tease, but instead kisses Jim's head and snuggles close. “Thank you.”

Jim nuzzles back but his face crinkles in question. “For what?”

Sebastian glances sidelong at the brunet. “I've been wanting to check in for hours but didn't want to be _that_ parent.”

Jim smirks softly. “Oh, I am definitely _that_ parent. Good luck reigning me in if anyone's less than perfect in their assessment of our Jellybean during the parent / nursery teacher conference in a few years.”

Sebastian leans back and plays with Jim's hair. “This is for our whole lives,” he says with wonder.

“We are actual parents,” Jim agrees. He sounds how Seb feels.

“I… don't think I'm scared,” says the blond.

“Me either,” Jim muses.

Sebastian grins softly. “Since we can't wake the baby… Do you want to try making another?”

“That joke is going to get so old,” Jim mutters. He reaches for his husband anyway.

They wake in the morning no more or less tired than they usually would be after a night spent with their daughter. For all of Seb's difficulty in sleeping it is the sound of Jim crooning to a vaguely pixelated, live video of their squirming daughter that rouses him.

“That Lexie?” Sebastian asks. He pulls the phone towards himself before hearing a response.

“Alex,” Jim corrects calmly.

Sebastian kisses the screen. “We'll see you in a couple of hours, baby girl.”

Jim arches a brow when he finally pries the phone from his husband's large hand. “We could be there in like forty minutes tops?”

Sebastian makes some more baby talk over Jim's shoulder then ends the call. He gives his husband a very serious expression. “We've barely had sex in forever. We can have an hour more of us time.”

Jim rises his brows. “Aren't you sore?”

Sebastian pulls his small husband closer and grins. “Yes, pretty much everywhere. So _you'll_ just have to go on top.”

Jim rolls his eyes, but it is clear from his body that he does not mind. He climbs onto Seb's lap and kisses his husband at length.

Sebastian grabs Jim's bottom and grins. “We're going to have to take down the charts in the kitchen.”

Jim's eyes heat at the touch but glaze over in confusion at the statement. “Alex's routine? Why?”

Sebastian rubs his stubble against his husband's stomach. “We didn't schedule nearly enough date nights.”

Jim groans contentedly at the feeling of Seb's breath on his skin. “Brains and brawn; aren't you a catch?”

Sebastian grins and fishes around in their sheets until he finds the lubricant. “Oh I've got another impressive talent too,” the blond confides.

Jim lightly caresses the pale hair which extends from his husband's tattooed chest. “Oh?”

Sebastian's strong hands encircle Jim's hips to bring the smaller man closer, then Seb teasingly strokes his husband's opening. “I can make you cum without letting you touch that pretty cock,” Sebastian declares confidently. When he finishes prepping Jim Sebastian takes the Irishman's thin wrists in one hand.

The brunet squirms playfully but makes no genuine effort to free himself. “I'm not sure I believe you,” Jim lies. His accent is thick with lust and pleasure. “You'd best show me, Tiger...”

So Sebastian does.

He returns Jim to their Conduit Street apartment a few hours later in a far greater humour than the brunet was in after the arrival of Gérard.

The building is still standing, and if Severin and Richard did anything untoward it does not show on their faces or their surroundings. Jim latches himself onto Alexdrina and fires questions to the pair about her routine and wellbeing. Sebastian wants to roll his eyes at Jim's fuss but honestly he feels the same way and is grateful to share their overbearing attentiveness of their daughter. Poor Lexie will probably sicken of it, but the zealous attention seems so much better than the neglect and outright abuse both Sebastian and Jim (and indeed, Severin and Richard) grew up with.

This family will be a very different one, and Sebastian reflects on these contrasts when he and Jim take Alexdrina out for a stroll in Green Park (via Saville Row of course, because Jim likes to eye up the clothes and prattle on to their girlchild about the merits of London Fashion Week, various fashionable cities in Europe and America, and various other things that Sebastian believes light Jim's dark eyes beautifully.) Green Park itself is not a particularly green place, particularly after a blistering summer. The grass is dead from global warming and the footfall of thousands of tourists but Seb and Jim like to make a game of heading towards the nearby palace and reciting the contents of each window in turn, or simply amusing themselves people watching. Sebastian pulls the cover up on Lexie's pram when the wind starts to blow up specks of dirt that make his eyes water.

“Hungry?” Jim, asks.

Seb considers. Previously if they were out this way a late lunch at The Ritz was somewhat habitual, but things are different with a young baby. Most local restaurants are awkward to navigate a stroller around, and even spacious department stores do not have especially generously spaced tables.

Sebastian hates Harrods at the best of times, but he has recently been stuck in an elevator to the fourth floor with his mother thanks to the utter delight of navigating that store with a pram. Jim ordinarily enjoys lunch with Mrs Moran, but even he was getting tense hoping Alexdrina would stay quiet for the duration of the meal. Sebastian doesn't know why they had to meet there in the first place: his mother insisted on looking at invitations then went and got ones specially made elsewhere anyway.

Selfridges wasn't much better when Jim suggested taking their daughter for some pretty new clothes, as though newborns don't spit up on everything. Sebastian had known the endeavour would not be especially fun, and he was not exactly wrong, but the sweet little outfits Jim picked out almost made up for Lexie bawling when they accidentally took her through the overstimulating, noisy, bright toy section. Sebastian had almost punched a staff member whose attempts to fly a tiny helicopter got much too close for his liking.

Seb makes a face. “Maybe we should eat at home?” he says. “Leave restaurants until she's a bit older?”

Jim agrees without much fuss, so he must understand the frazzled feeling the experience gives Sebastian. They meander home and Sebastian takes in the sights of the streets around him.

Conduit Street has gotten grim and darker than he remembers it. It lacks the bustle of more populated streets, which had been one of the reasons he and Jim liked it. Sebastian cannot imagine Lexie playing hopscotch on these pavements, despite the relative lack of traffic. Kids are rarely seen playing around here, and the local ones probably only set their gadgets down long enough to hunt urban foxes.

Sebastian helps Jim inside with their daughter and inwardly considers their new home. He supposes Lexie could play outside. She has her own toyroom within, already filled with things she is far too young to play with. Mrs Moran had been rather put out when Seb got Jim to veto a rocking horse entirely covered in Swarovski crystals, fearing the child would graze her delicate, baby skin on it. Christabelle managed to circumvent a row by bringing in a sweet, fuzzy rocking horse whose skin could be removed for regular washing.

Jim tends to their daughter and Sebastian breaks himself from his thoughts long enough to make lunch for his husband and himself. Walking around this kitchen is such a practised routine. It feels like home.

Sebastian remembers sneaking out to get Jim fruit and vegetables years ago when Jim first came to stay. He has scouted out the local shops near their new home but they don't have the memories of around here.

He knows they'll make more though. He eyes Lexie and wonders what age she will be when she discovers the ginormous international sweet shops that sting tourists who have no idea what sweets usually cost. Sebastian wonders whether he or Jim will be the one most likely to give in to her sweet tooth and doe eyes. Or perhaps their daughter won't have a sweet tooth at all. Perhaps she'll drag him around every Asian restaurant in turn mimicking Jim in her ability to fondly deride Sebastian's distaste for chopstick splinters in his food.

Jim doesn't cook often. Given the Irishman's gift for chemistry that might be surprising, but Sebastian supposes it might be because he likes cooking for Jim and Jim likes being cooked for. Seb likes doing anything for Jim that makes his husband feel looked after. The brunet settles Alexdrina in her adorably tiny walker and half watches her totter about, too tired after her adventure in the park to bounce enthusiastically, and Jim watches Sebastian cook.

“We need to set up the new kitchen soon,” says Jim.

Sebastian looks over his shoulder and smiles in soft indulgence. “Oh?”

“With staff to help us with Alex you'll have time to cook the way you used to,” the brunet smiles.

Sebastian grins and nods. He cocks his head at Alexdrina. “What do you think, Lexie? Are you going to love your Da's curries when you're older?”

Jim smiles and steals something from the chopping board. “She'll probably be vegan and gluten free and eating out of test tubes or something.”

Sebastian cocks his head again. “As long as she's happy and healthy she can do what she wants.”

Jim's expression turns playful. “What if she's a pacifist? Anti-guns and pro-animal rights?”

Sebastian stops chopping. He shrugs. “Still our baby girl.”

Jim feels a happy little flutter at that, but he smirks and leans in. “What's your benchmark then? A girly girl? A preening, giggling, debutante?”

Seb rolls his eyes. “Knowing my luck she'll have your taste for musical theatre and blowing up things she shouldn't; mum's knack for getting her own way; and be a wild, awful teenager like me.”

Jim rests against Seb's arm and watches their baby. “You think you were a worse teenager than me?”

“I suppose her being a rebellious, hard-partying little brat is better than a teen runaway,” Sebastian muses.

Jim presses his lips together. “She'll want to stay, right? With us? We'll be good parents.”

Sebastian puts down the vegetable knife and tries to give Jim a hug that does not get any wet food on his husband's suit. Alexdrina may get away with messing up Jim's clothes but Seb knows he is rarely so privileged. “She might get upset with us sometimes, but we love her and she'll love us. We'll be a happy family.”

“You promise?” Jim asks, although he doesn't really doubt it as much as he used to.

Sebastian kisses his husband firmly. “I promise.”


	32. Sins of the Father

The new kitchen is less of a priority to Sebastian and Jim than the security plans of the new house, but once both are settled they find themselves spending less and less time at Conduit Street. Piece by piece their new house becomes just so and with every tweak begins to feel more like home.

The gradual process of giving up one for the other goes as smoothly as can reasonably be expected, much like Alexdrina's own weaning. Meetings with Siobhan are less and less; the break from her and the old apartment make the new house feel like a fresh start.

The oddest bit about that is the other people. The little family are used to the coming and going of Richard, Severin, Chris and Mrs Moran, but these relationships in no way prepare Seb and Jim for the experience of sharing their new house with staff.

It's strange because for a start Seb and Jim aren't used to sharing their time or space beyond their usual circle, and it's even more perturbing having people around who never leave. Sebastian grew up with plenty of staff and alone time was in short supply in the army, and school, but he does not find the change much easier than Jim does. Sebastian has not lived with anyone other than his baby and his husband in quite some time, and he lived alone for years before Lexie came along.

It makes sense to have protection and childcare staff (all thoroughly vetted of course) but sharing one's space with people paid to be in your company is an odd way to live. It helps that some of said staff are friends. Sebastian does not like other people messing up his kitchen but hearing Vix sing familiar songs to Lexie as she fixes his daughter's meal makes it easier to relax.

The thought of nannies had seemed absurd at first, but Sebastian feels relief at having them around. His own disasterous childhood was buoyed by compassionate staff and Seb hopes that any failings he may have as a father can be counteracted by the presence of better qualified professionals. Jim tells Seb the idea is foolish but seems as relieved by the nannies' unflappable natures as Sebastian feels.

There is another reason of course why the couple put up with their strange new living arrangement: each other. Naturally, once Jim and Sebastian are reminded how very fucking much they enjoy their sex life, it becomes apparent to them that more effort must be made to find the time and energy to regularly fuck each other senseless.

So they tend to have at least one nanny for the night shift. Vix is more inclined towards close protection than pampering children, and Gérard prefers playing peekaboo to waiting games with assailants who never show up, but together they make up a good team. Morgan seems to get on well with anyone, although her personality seems to change with the company she is in. Gérard finds Morgan pleasingly self-contained and dryly witty whilst Vix finds the younger woman to be bubbly and casually tactile. Sebastian has noticed Morgan is often quiet around Jim, but when she does speak to the Irishman it is with sound insight or playful sarcasm that Jim seems to appreciate. Seb also notices that when he is alone in the nursery with Lexie and Morgan the young woman's mannerisms often mirror Christabelle's.

Sebastian is uncertain how he feels about this. He definitely approves of how Morgan is with his daughter; Lexie obviously feels safe with Morgan and tends to babble baby secrets happily to her. Sebastian wonders how Morgan knows to act in a manner that reminds him of Chris; he does not believe the two woman have spent enough time together for it to be a direct transference. 

Which makes Seb wonder how much of Chris is in his own behaviour. The thought should not concern him; Christabelle is one of his most favourite relatives _and_ people of all time ever. Chris certainly had a hand in nurturing many of the qualities Sebastian likes about himself, so the potential similarities are not surprising in themselves.

The thing that bothers Sebastian is… What else has he picked up from his family?

Seb knows that he can be cynical and unregenerate like his mother, and doesn't much mind this. Jim is stubborn too so Sebastian has had plenty of practice over the years compromising over equally bullheaded stalemates. However, his mother was neglectful and short-tempered when her children were young. Sebastian worries he has inherited these traits.

More frighteningly, there is the ugly possibility that there is more of his father in Sebastian than broad shoulders and clipped English vowels.

Augustus Moran has never in Seb's memory been a good man. Outwardly upstanding but morally bankrupt, Sebastian's driven, successful, assertive father is truly a cutthroat, crushing, aggressive sort. Augustus was born to excessive privilege and amassed even more, and as such has a high regard for himself whilst maintaining a low one for everyone else. He does not suffer fools lightly, unless it is financially or politically prosperous to do so.

Sebastian hopes he is not alike the father he so despises but he knows there are traits within him -both innate and cultivated- that others might consider his father's influence. Seb's diligence is his father's cold perseverance; his recklessness is an unchecked echo of his father's passion; Sebastian is strong and virile and loud and broad and educated and handsome and good with a gun and can price whiskey by nose and rubs his eyes with his knuckles when he's tired… just like his father.

The fear lingers in the back of Sebastian's mind, but due to the new living arrangements he thankfully has the welcome distraction of once more being able to sleep through the nights. Or at least, he gets to relax by burying himself in his enthusiastic husband during the nights and not think of these stressful thoughts.

It is an awkward thing at first trying to reacquaint themselves with each other's bodies. They are used to having Lexie in their bedroom, close at hand, and even with her crib in an adjoining room Sebastian and Jim find it difficult to talk above whispers in fear of waking her.

At first.

Gérard is the first of the staff to have the misfortune of overhearing the husbands together during the night. She thoroughly surprises the pair by cooking breakfast that morning and dryly teasing, “You'll be needing this after all of that… exercise.”

Sebastian expects Jim to be mildly embarrassed in the way that the brunet is when Severin or Chris make similar jokes, but Jim is not. The Irishman snorts and leans back in his seat.

“You can see who I'm married to,” Jim says over a dark coffee. “Of course I want to _keep fit_.”

Gérard smirks and taps the younger man's dark scalp with her fingertips so lightly that they almost do not touch. “As long as your remember adequate stretching. I'm not risking waking Alexdrina overnight to come to your aid if you tear something.”

Sebastian winces but Jim's teeth bare in a wide, comfortable grin. The brunet glances at Seb, his gaze comfortable, and tells Gérard, “He looks after me.”

“Of course he does; I haven't poisoned him,” Gérard tells Jim as she gazes Seb's way.

Sebastian sighs at them both at continues eating anyway. “This is what I put up with, Lexie.”

“Oh, like you can talk about 'putting up' with anything,” Gérard scoffs. “This little lady is supposed to be the one keeping me awake 'til three in the merry morning.”

Seb has the grace to look shamefaced. Whatever negative associations Jim held about Gérard seem to have eased this morning. Sebastian watches the pair quip comfortably at each other over breakfast and cannot help but think about the time they shared together before he met Jim.

Already a runaway, Jim has admitted he was selling himself by the time he met Gérard. A reserved, cynical teen with a sharp tongue, Jim must have been difficult to befriend or treat. Sebastian certainly had a hard time of that and he had sexual chemistry on his side.

It's strange to think that Gérard had her fingers on Jim's scarred scalp before Sebastian did. Perhaps never with casual affection, but she stitched him up.

Jim reaches for Lexie's spoon as she considers dropping it over the edge of her high chair. His eyes are crinkled with love and his mouth is still curled in a smile from Gérard's teasing.

Sebastian is glad that Jim had moments of not being alone before he moved into Conduit Street. He is also glad that Jim seems to be drawing all those he is fond of closer and closer together. Seb feels like Jim has accepted that this is home. With him. With Lexie. Heck, with Gérard even. Sebastian thinks Jim really will stay now.

That makes this feel like home to Sebastian.

Lexie wriggles in her chair and Jim abandons his own breakfast to unbuckle her and bring his daughter close. She gazes interestedly at her surroundings but settles. Jim has forgotten to button down his shirt collar and it finds its way unceremoniously into Alexdrina's mouth. Jim doesn't bat an eyelid. He takes the dummy that Gérard offers but when Lexie shows no interest Jim accepts the soggy fate of his clothing.

Sebastian wonders how long it will take before this does not feel normal and natural for his husband. Jim has never been good at accepting positive life changes and this is certainly a big one. Still, Seb is not scared by the prospect. He trusts that if Jim does have another wobble it won't be difficult to smooth over.

The scars on Sebastian's arms have not yet faded much, but the wound between himself and Jim feels healed.

Some emotional scars lessen better than others, no matter their age. Sebastian cannot help but consider this truth as his mother 'pops by' later that day, ostensibly on a whim but doubtlessly to scrutinise Gérard. And Morgan, who takes over the next shift and puts far more effort into tummy time and baby yoga than Mrs Moran ever did, even when Jasper was young. Or whatever it was that babies were supposed to do back then.

Sebastian hasn't seen Jasper in some time. Between Cambridge and the RAF Jasper may well be the most rebellious of all the Moran boys, but the age difference between Seb and his legitimised-yet-suspected-half-brother has always been a bit of a hindrance to their relationship. Jasper visits Moran Manor briefly at Christmas if he isn't working and otherwise keeps well out of Moran life. Sebastian certainly understands that.

Sebastian is uncertain how he feels about his mother looking at baby Alexdrina with so much more love than he ever remembers her looking at Jasper. Severin and himself were always in scrapes growing up so Sebastian understands why most of his memories of his mother are of her ire and disdain. Poor Chris probably had an even worse time of it, as none of her discomfort in conforming to the examples set by Gus and Rawdon could be written off as an example of 'boys being boys.'

Sebastian wonders not for the first time how much of his miserable childhood was his own fault and how much of his mother's perceived distaste for him was genuine. He doesn't doubt that his mother would easily attempt to emotionally manipulate him into thinking the fault was all his… Or at least, he once would have. More and more his mother surprises him by admitting faults of her own.

Do parents truly mellow with age or do they just become more self-aware?

Sebastian is painfully conscious of his complicated relationship with his mother, for all it seems to slowly be soothed by time and effort on both sides. He increasingly reflects upon the examples of childrearing his mother gave him and weighs their impact for good or bad. He thinks his mother may not have been as loathe to have him as he once thought, but she certainly failed him in a number of respects.

That does not stop him loving her.

Sebastian cannot say he feels this way for his father. For all his mother's faults, she did clean up his messes (however coldly) and Seb can remember plenty of times when the brittle woman actively protected him growing up. She did the same for his siblings, to varying extents. Even for Jasper.

Sebastian's father generally seemed to be the main thing Seb and the others needed protection from. There are a few uncomfortable memories Sebastian has of his father's _pride_ in him, but the majority of their shared past was not a pleasant experience for Sebastian. Many were downright painful experiences.

Seb cannot shake thoughts of his father as Mrs Moran prattles on about little Alexdrina's Christening. Augustus has not met his granddaughter yet, and Sebastian doesn't fucking want him to.

“Mum,” Sebastian says.

She gives him a half-exasperated look as though he has interrupted her mid-conversation. He probably has. She asks, “Something to share, young man?”

Sebastian takes a deep breath. “Mum, you know me and Jim… we're not… we're not religious.”

“It's never too soon to start hedging,” Mrs Moran says. “Besides, it's not just about God. This is a social thing. We are welcoming Alexdrina to the family and the world. This legitimises her.”

“She doesn't _need_ legitimising,” Sebastian growls.

Mrs Moran sniffs disdainfully. “I'm hardly invalidating her worth,” she says, “but to be part of society-”

“Mum, I don't care about society,” Seb says.

“Well she might, Sebastian,” Mrs Moran counters. “James, don't you think-”

Jim places a hand on his husband in silent comfort. “Perhaps the real issue might be the _exclusivity_ of the occasion.”

Mrs Moran makes a face. “You want a select gathering? We can do that… I suppose… But don't you think that a proper party-”

“Mum, I don't care about strangers,” Sebastian says quickly.

“It's not about 'strangers',” Mrs Moran says dryly. “It is a chance to make connections early-”

Seb argues, “She doesn't need connections-”

Jim interrupts, “Financially, he means. Even given the state of our businesses recently Alex will still never need to work a day in her life if she doesn't want to.”

“And what if she wants to?” Mrs Moran counters.

“And that's ladylike, is it?” Sebastian retorts.

“When did that suddenly become a concern of yours?” Mrs Moran disparages.

Jim squeezes his husband's thigh. “It's not about that, Mam.”

Mrs Moran raises her brows softly and inhales. On her exhale she asks, “And what _is_ this about, pray tell?”

Jim squeezes Seb's leg again. Sebastian juts his jaw, takes a deep breath through his nose, and blurts, “ _I don't want Dad there!_ ”

“People will think he doesn't accept her, or you… both… if he's not there,” Mrs Moran points out.

“Let them!” says Sebastian. “I don't accept _him_. I don't want him near our daughter!”

Mrs Moran swallows. She begins, “Your father-”

“ _No_ ,” Sebastian says, shaking his head. “He doesn't… He doesn't get to be a part of this. Of her. She's _ours_. He's not mine. I don't want anything for my daughter that involves him.”

“'Bastian...” Mrs Moran sighs. “You cannot be a child about this.”

“Oh like everything he did to us?” Sebastian snaps. “That man is a monster and he doesn't-”

“That man is your father and you are hardly the first little boy with a strict Daddy, 'Bastian,” Mrs Moran says. “You are plenty old enough now to make nice and smile in the occasional family photo.”

“He _beat_ us,” Sebastian says bluntly. “Me, and Severin, and Chris, and little Jasp, and sometimes even your perfect Og and Rawdon. He beat us fucking bloody Mum, you know he did.”

“That's how things were,” says Mrs Moran, “and _you_ know it often wasn't without good reason. You were hardly a timid-”

“ _'Often wasn't without good reason'_ isn't enough for every time he did it, is it, and other kids' dads did not treat their kids the way ours treated us. Not decent ones.”

“He raised you, 'Bastian. He might not have been perfect at it… I _know_ he wasn't perfect at it… But he was there and he fed you and clothed you and paid for your schooling-”

“Mum,” says Sebastian. “That's a bare minimum. It's not enough. He was _horrible_ to us. And he was horrible to you! He slept-”

“That's what men do, Sebastian,” Mrs Moran says tiredly. “Maybe not your and James' type, but men like your father… That's what they do. I was under no illusions that he would love me forever or be a faithful husband. He was loyal enough in his own way to provide for all of you-”

“That's not an example I want my daughter exposed to,” Sebastian says. “I want her to grow up with _love_ and compassion and understanding and patience and _safety_!”

“Times are different; he wouldn't take a hand to Alexdrina,” Mrs Moran says.

“You're damn right he wouldn't, because I'd have his hand and then I'd kill him,” Jim says. Sebastian squeezes his husband's knee in solidarity. 

“All I'm trying to do is have my granddaughter baptised,” Mrs Moran says. “I think you're both blowing things entirely out of proportion.”

“'Out of proportion' like every little imagined misdemeanour that that's left scars on me still twenty, even thirty years later? More, probably?” Sebastian says.

“You were a spirited boy, 'Bastian; what was he supposed to do?” Mrs Moran asks.

“He could have not beaten me bloody, black and blue for a _minimum_ ,” Seb snarls.

“He hasn't hit you in _years_ ,” Mrs Moran says. “Probably a decade. I still blister your bottom when you're naughty. Why is he the bad one?”

Sebastian is quiet for a beat. He knows that his mother loves him _now_ but he didn't exactly back _then_. “You didn't enjoy it,” he says slowly. “I don't think you ever left scars. You were predictable; I knew what would set you off and how far I could push.”

“'Bastian, I whipped your bare bottom with a thick belt when you were exceptionally naughty. When you were a bullheaded teenager I bent you over and caned some obedience into you,” Mrs Moran points out. “I dare say you still remember when you and Severin decided to stay out all night together when you were small and I thought that you'd been kidnapped or murdered; I paddled both of you with my hairbrush until you bawled your eyes out.”

“But I can still trust you!” Sebastian exclaims. “I… You were strict and you were angry a lot… but… I always knew where I was with you. I knew what would get me smacked, and how much, and it was never… even when I made you _really_ mad… or… or worried… You never hit like Dad hit. You'd give me _three_ with the belt most times. Six if I was a brat. I don't remember you ever giving me even a dozen.”

“I gave you ten the first time you snuck out after… after you… that _moronic stunt_ with a maneating beast,” Mrs Moran says.

“Mum, I got myself mauled by a tiger,” Sebastian says gently. “I'd understand if you gave me ten _dozen_ licks after that. Maybe not at the time, but… I know that I worried you.”

“I'd have given you worse than ten dozen,” Jim says quietly to his husband. Sebastian gives a lopsided smile and kisses his husband's cheek before continuing.

“I was a brat and I get that,” Sebastian says to his mother. “I was angry and upset and scared and acted out. If it had just been you and me, Mum, us and the others, no Dad, well… it would have been different. I'm not saying things would have been perfect; I still wouldn't have been perfect like Rawd- well, like I was supposed to be… but… it wouldn't have been like it was. I wouldn't have fought so much. I wouldn't have been so angry. I'd have felt like things had consequences that I could understand and were something like fair. _It would have been different_.”

“Maybe so,” Mrs Moran says quietly, “but your father is still alive and he treated you no differently than his father treated him, or _his_ father. We need to live in reality-”

“Mum, he doesn't have to be dead,” Sebastian says, “you could divorce him.”

Mrs Moran looks the whitest she has been all conversation. “I most certainly could not,” she says. “Now enough of this foolishness. Are we seriously calling off my granddaughter's Christening?”

“No,” says Jim.

They look at him.

“Augustus isn't coming,” says Jim, “but we are a family and we should be doing something to commemorate that.”

“We can't hold an event and not invite him,” Mrs Moran says.

“Then we get rid of him,” Jim says. Sebastian looks at him with such swiftness that Mrs Moran almost drops her cup.

“Firstly, _don't you dare_ ,” she hisses. “Secondly, not in front of the staff.”

Sebastian lifts his head in Morgan's direction. She has been keeping well away from the conversation by helping Alexdrina play with a mildly noisy toy across the large room and does not seem to notice their sudden attention.

“I'm not allowed to do what he deserves,” Jim says sourly, his ire not addressed at Sebastian. “I am talking about sending him away somewhere that lets him feel important and saves face when he's not here for Alex's party.”

“Fine,” Mrs Moran says carefully.


End file.
